


Albus & The Wolf

by ohnobetty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter Next Generation, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child doesn't exist., Post-Hogwarts, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-11-28 21:25:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 58,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11426478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnobetty/pseuds/ohnobetty
Summary: Albus Potter has gotten himself in deep - and it'll take a lot to get him out.





	1. The Set Up

**Prologue**  
_August 10th, 2032_  
  
A flash of green light illuminated the trees surrounding the clearing. Three cloaked and masked figures emerged from the darkness. Two of them lowered their wands. Two of the three Muggles fell over dead, the third hunched over, cowering with his hands above his head.

One - the tallest and more slender of the three- stepped over to the makeshift altar, inspecting a goat head and a knife. The next, slightly shorter and of bigger build looked down at the Muggle with a cocked head. He squatted down in front of him and used his wand to turn the boy’s head back and forth, inspecting him. “ _Incarcerous,_ ” he muttered, and conjured up bindings for the Muggle’s hands, and pulled him to a standing position. The third - shortest of the three was busy inspecting a pentagram made from twigs in front of the altar.

“Where do they come up with this stuff?” The taller one asked, picking up a black leather bound book with runes on the front. “It’s gibberish.”

“As a Dark magic practicing wizard, I am offended,” the middle one said.

“Gibberish?!” The Muggle finally found his voice. “It’s the word of the holy----” The middle one shoved his wand up under the double chin of the Muggle. It made him stop talking. He had seen what those people could do with those sticks… how did they get such power?

The tallest was reading the book now, his curiosity had gotten the best of him. “According to this, you can use crystals to harness and maximize your magic.”

“And here I thought this was used to beat someone with, you’ve enlightened me, Scorpius,” the middle one bent down and picked up a black painted stick with a purple crystal glued on the top. Copper wire wrapped around the stick and onto the crystal. Bits of hot glue strings still hung off of it. The middle one whacked the Muggle across the back of the head with it.

The shortest shook his head, pushing around the sticks with his boot. “We need to get this cleaned up.”

“Have some fun, Rhys,” the stockier one snapped, but stood up anyways. He chucked the Muggle wand into the river that ran parallel to them.

“I’d rather not die, thanks,” Rhys hissed back, aiming a kick at a rock towards the other’s head. It missed by a fraction of a hair in a bush nearby, where a bunny went skipping out and into the other edge of the clearing. The stocky one gave him a look of disbelief as though one of his best friends would really try and send him to the hospital.

The three of them grouped back together and raised their wands, waving them. The makeshift altar and goats head disappeared, in it’s place a giant fire was being built. The two Muggle bodies rolled away into the water. Without warning, others in black cloaks began to apparate in around them. They stood in a circle around the fire, the light from the flames casting shadows on their wolf masks. A boy, no more than 17, stood the opposite of the three. The Muggle’s mouth hung open.

Finally she appeared, black hair pulled back into a bun, her robes were a deep navy blue, black stones laid into the collar. Brown eyes swept over her followers. She couldn’t see their eyes, but she could tell where they were staring. She was tall, even without her heeled boots. She crossed to the opposite end of the circle, stopping in front of the stocky follower from earlier.

“Albus,” she whispered. A red tipped nail found it’s way under his mask to stroke his chin. She pulled it up to look her in the eyes. “You come as sponsor for this initiate?” Albus Potter’s green eyes met her brown.

“Yes,” he spoke, his voice deep. She pointed back towards the boy.

“Go to him, then.” Albus stepped around the fire, standing behind the boy and freeing his wand from his cloak pocket.

The Wolf Mother stepped around in front of Al. She pushed up the sleeve of her dress, a wolf with red eyes and yellow teeth glaring up at them. The boy pushed up his sleeve, revealing bare skin. Al produced a plain black dagger, and took the boy’s arm, running the knife down the length of it - drawing blood. He did the same to her, over the wolf. They clasped hands, blood running and mixing together.

Albus hovered the tip of his wand over their clasped hands, a black smoke oozed from the tip and wrapped itself loosely around the arms. “Samuel Burke,” he started, looking over at the boy. “Do you come here to pledge your allegiance to the Wolf Mother?”

“I do,” the boy muttered. Al could tell he was being forced into this. The smoke began to darken and tighten around their arms.

“Do you pledge to give her your unwavering loyalty? To follow her to the ends of the Earth and to hell and back?”

“Yes.”

“And do you, Samuel, take the mark as proof of giving your life to her?”

“Yes,” his voice wavered and the smoke completely constricted around both of their arms, before disappearing as Al lowered his wand. The boy was now branded. The same wolf that occupied the arm of every other standing in the circle was now on his arm. It was red and swollen. Both of the cuts were gone, completely healed from the smoke.

Albus took a step back, tucking his wand back into his cloak. She turned around and held out her hand towards the muggle, who was still bound, now kneeling in front of Rhys and Scorpius.

“Prove it!” She shrieked. “Make up the offering.”

The kid turned and looked back at Al, who gave him a nod. He raised his wand.

“ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

A flash of green light emerged from his wand and the muggle dropped dead. The crowd around him broke out in cheers. Al wrapped his arm around the kid’s shoulders, pulling him into an awkward side hug.

“Keep your friends close at Hogwarts,” he whispered, ignoring the fact that the kid was shaking. “Don’t show anyone, don’t mention it. I have someone that’ll keep an eye on you. Send me an owl if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Mister Potter,” Samuel whispered.

“Call me Al.”

* * *

**1 - The Set Up  
** _August 12th, 2032_

“Oh, _Merlin,_ Al,” hands curled through black hair, and her legs shook. He raised his head from between her legs, wiping his bottom lip with his thumb.

He left her on the bed, her bare chest rising and falling. She lifted her head and watched his bare ass disappear into the bathroom. His body was dotted with various scars, mostly small. Quidditch related mishaps. The biggest was a scar radiating from his collarbone to the top of his shoulder. He had gotten that one his sixth year, a Gryffindor had shoved him into the stands and a piece of wood had found its way in the most inconvenient spot, as Al would say. The second largest was a surgical scar on his side, he had his appendix removed Christmas of his second year. A tattoo could be seen on the inside of his right bicep: a black and red snake twisting its way around a rose and dagger. His nose had been broken in a Quidditch match against the Egyptian team the night before. A cut had been stitched up on the bridge, and dark bruises lay under his eyes.

He twisted on the knob for the shower and stepped in.

She couldn’t see the second tattoo – that was for special eyes only. A black dog extended down his right forearm, mouth open in a snarl, red eyes glaring. It was less of a tattoo and more of a brand - a mark of membership.

Albus let the hot water work out some of the knots in his shoulder blades. He heard the toilet flush besides the shower, knowing the girl was up. Their relationship was nothing more than physical. They met at the same time every week, they fucked and he left. He knew she was telling all her friends that she was screwing Albus Potter.

“Al,” she called, lightly.

“Mm?” He grunted in response, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair.

“I mean, you know the sex is amazing and all, but…”

Al cut her off by opening the shower curtain after shutting off the water. “No,” he responded, stepping out and grabbing the towel to wrap around his waist. He headed to the bedroom, scooping up his clothes strewn about. “I don’t like you.”

“Oh,” she slunk back against the toilet. She pulled up her panties and watched him pull on his jeans, shirt, boots, and black leather jacket. He pushed his hair off his face and left the flat, leaving her in the bathroom.

* * *

Al grabbed the take-out bag from the girl on the other side of the counter and nodded to her. He stepped out onto the street, cradling the bag in one hand as he fished out his aviators, cigarettes and muggle lighter from his pocket. First went on the aviators, then a cigarette went between his lips and he lit it. The cigarettes and lighter went back into his pocket and he trekked the block and a half towards the Ministry.

Every week - same time and day - they met for lunch. With the rise of a dark shadow across England, and Albus’ involvement… it was important for both parties to switch information as much as possible. So they met in Harry’s office, surrounded by cork boards with pictures and notes pinned to it. Albus had let Harry into his apartment one night to take pictures of his armor including his mask. He had pictures of Albus’ mark hanging on the boards too. His aurors asked where he got the information from, but Harry wouldn’t tell them.

It was part of their agreement. Albus had come to his father the few days after he got his mark. Harry had been filled emotions. Surprised, angry, and disappointed were the most prevalent. He almost arrested his son, even, until Albus explained why he did what he did. Al saw that he was in a unique position, and like any good Slytherin, he sought to exploit it.

Albus stopped in front of the telephone booth, he took one last drag of his cigarette, throwing it to the ground and putting it out with the heel of his boot. He slid into the booth, entering the - quite literally - magic number, and stated his business. The booth began to slide down into the black marble lobby of the Ministry. Al didn’t bother to take off his sunglasses as he entered the elevator and hit the button for the auror offices with his elbow.

He adjusted the food to sit more comfortably on his hip as he rode, the elevator making one stop and a young intern stepped in, her arms full of folders. He only smirked over at her, not bothering to offer a charm to help with the paperwork. She blushed and shifted awkwardly. The cool voice announced the arrival on his level and he stepped out. It wasn’t long before he was at his father’s door, and knocked before he entered.

A ginger head turned around and looked at him.

“Albus!” Harry said warmly, “glad you’re here. I was filling Ron….”

“No, no, you did _not._ ” Albus dropped the food on top of Harry’s paperwork. Harry gave an exasperated sigh, he had been working on that all day.

“No, not about _that,_ Al. Calm down.”

Ron looked at the two of them. Albus was glaring daggers at his father behind his sunglasses.“Filling me on on what?” He looked around the office, and it finally clicked in his head.

Ron stood up, looking his nephew in the face. “Take off those stupid sunglasses,” he took a sniff. “You stink.”

Ron could feel Albus eyeing him up and down, before taking off his jacket and throwing it over the back of the chair. He took off his sunglasses and hung them on the collar of his shirt. “Better?” Harry gave a low whistle at his son’s face.

“You still stink,” Ron replied, looking down at his arm as though to confirm his own suspicions.

Harry had begun to get the food from the bag, passing Albus his container of Butter Chicken and rice. The tension in the air was thick, Harry could tell Ron was trying not to jump Albus, though his hand was resting on his wand in his pocket. He could tell Albus was trying not to do the same to Ron. He picked at his chicken.

“You kill people,” Ron finally spat out.

“Not my strong suit,” Albus replied between bites. He had other areas of expertise that the Wolf Mother had called him for. Though, they all knew Ron’s accusation was true. Albus wouldn’t tell Harry about the initiation process, and Harry could only guess what that meant.

“I swear to Merlin, if you hurt anyone in our family…” Ron threatened, pointing his finger at the youngest Potter boy.

“And then you’ll be no better than me,” Albus snapped back, “in fact, you’re worse than the people you claim to hate, I hope you know that. But if you mention this to anyone, I'll be forced to take measures into my own hands.” He threatened casually, taking another bite of his chicken and rice.

Harry gave Ron a pleading look. “Albus, enough. But Ron, at family functions you don't know about this - treat Al like you normally would. Ron, if you tell anyone, even Hermione… it'll ruin a lot of work. It’ll put him in even more danger than he already is.”

Ron made a show of checking his watch before getting up. “I got to head back to the shop,” he left the office, slamming the door behind him. Harry flinched, and looked at Albus.

“I give it a week tops,” Al said. “He can’t keep a secret like this.”

Harry sighed, “and that’s why I think we need to get as much done as possible as fast as we can…” He picked at his own food. “You said killing wasn’t your expertise,” Harry’s own curiosity getting the better of him. “What does she use you for?” He didn’t know if he’d like to hear the answer.

Albus knew this question was coming. Why was he valuable to her? Why did she keep a Potter around? He took a minute to answer, mulling over it. Tell him, and end it then and there, or have his father keep asking him. He squared his jaw, and looked up. His green eyes met his father’s.

“Torture.”


	2. How Do You Like Me Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus plays Quidditch, says dumb things, and explains things to his Aunt.

**2 - How Do You Like Me Now?  
** _August 27th, 2032_

Albus closed his eyes, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. He could hear the roar of the crowd in the distance, the fireworks and the festivities. His team sat around him, and they all tried to focus. It was the Quidditch World Cup finals, England had beaten Japan 372 to 249 the previous game, landing them against America for the title. They were in England for this match, for which Albus was thankful. He didn’t want to travel anymore - he had been out of town since the 13th, with a match every other day. His and his team’s hard work came down to this.

Their coach was going on about something, but none of the team was listening. Al, being the captain, had said a few words earlier. An official peeked his head in, letting them know it was time. They stood up, grabbing their brooms and headed towards the entrance of their locker room. Albus stood at the front of the team, his two other chasers flanked him. His beaters were directly behind, and following them, his keeper and seeker. The official held up one finger. “Mount!” He called, the team mounting their brooms. The official held up a second finger. “Let’s play hard,” Al grinned, as the official pointed at them, signifying game time.

The team took off into the air, Albus flying out first, all of their brooms reaching top speeds. Their red and white checkered robes trailing behind them as they dove down into the pitch. The pitch was set into the ground, with tarps covering the top of it. Stands were packed with both English and American fans, flags of both countries hung over the barrier sides. Al sped out in front of his team to cheers, pushing his broom out in front of him before catching it again in some sort of a stunt. They sped by the Minister’s box and he could briefly see his family. He knew the Malfoys would be close by as well.

They swung to a stop, facing the sky as the Americans shot down, their brooms trailing red, white, and blue smoke and flew around the pitch before they stopped, facing the English. The referee flew up, with the quaffle under her arm.   
  
“Let’s make this a clean match!” She called, throwing the ball in the air, and the teams clashed.

* * *

England won. England won the cup. Al had beaten his personal best, the team was on a high, they had landed on the pitch, the cheers and roars were deafening. They crowded around each other, hoisting the gold cup into the sky.  They left the pitch, heading down into the locker rooms. Fans cheered behind barriers, trying to see their team. Al gave his broom over to a kid no more than ten, posed for a quick picture, and headed on his way. Cameras were still flashing in the winning team’s face. They took a team photo, popped and drank some champagne, before everyone dispersed.

He was shuffled off towards a healer’s tent, and someone was pressing a rag to his nose and cheek. He didn’t even realize he hurt until he was sat down on an exam table in a private room and suddenly _everything hurt._ He had taken a bludger to the ribs, and almost fell off his broom. The pain had been so bad, a time-out had to be called so Albus could puke. Reporters were being blocked from coming in, and someone dropped a change of clothes next to him. He tried to take off his pads, but it was useless with one hand that wouldn’t work, so he gave up.   
  
“Need help?” A voice asked, and Al looked up. Nora Nott was standing in front of him with a smirk. She wore a black shirt with a wand crossed over a bone, her hair was pulled back into a bun. She came in, grabbing latex gloves and pulled them on.

They hadn’t seen each other in a long time, despite her brother being one of Albus’ best friends. He held out his hands for her, and she undid his padding and helped him get his robes and the rest of his padding off. He managed to get his boots and pants off himself, until he was standing in front of her in his underwear. He was trying hard not to blush as she squatted down in front of him, her hands going to his side. He shied away, sucking air through his teeth.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I know it’s tender,” she pulled her wand from the holster on her belt and wordlessly moved it over his side, setting the bones. She waved her wand again, and gauze began to wrap itself around his torso. He got off the table, and pulled his team shirt and jeans with some difficulty.

“I should be apologizing,” he eventually said as she set his hand with a splint. “For 7th year.”

“You cheated on me,” she said, bluntly. Her tone suggested that she had forgiven him, at least until he brought it up again.  
  
“So, I heard you’re getting married to a fucking Finch?” Albus knew _just_ the words to make every situation better. “Of all the people to…”   
  
“Yes, and I love him,” she snapped, cutting him off. “I should leave your nose broken!”   
  
“Okay, okay. Sorry, please don’t leave my nose broken.” Her nostrils flared and she flicked her wand, setting it back into place, a little more violently than she intended. “Merlin, Nora!” He snapped, finding his robes to put under his now bleeding nose.   
  
“I knew you wouldn’t change, you piece of shit. Look at me,” She snapped, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look at her. She siphoned off the blood from his face with the tip of her wand, and reached behind her and grabbed a butterfly bandage from behind the counter, using it to close the cut on his cheek.

“Wow, eloquent,” Albus retorted, which seemed to send her over the edge.

She pushed him off the table. “Hey!” He snapped, and she picked up his shoes. 

“Get out of my tent.”

“Come on, Nora. I’m sorry.”

“OUT!” She pushed him out of the tent flaps and threw his shoes at him.

He stumbled, briefly, before looking up at the tent.

“Fuck,” Al snapped, scooping up his shoes and sitting down on a bench outside the tent to pull them on.

“I am his _mother,_ and you will let me _through.”_ Ginny stood with her fists on her hips, glaring at the security wizard who had stopped her from making her way to him.

“It’s fine,” Al called, standing up. She gave the security wizard a curt nod and ducked under the ropes.

She grinned, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you, Albus,” she told him, stepping back and putting her hands on his cheeks and pulling him down to her height so she could kiss his forehead.

“Thanks, Mum,” he smiled, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked back to the family tent. 

“It’s a party over there,” she informed him.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from this family.”

They came upon their camp site, which was just over a small hill. Fireworks were being set off, music was being played, laughter and singing filled the air. There was nothing quite like a Weasley party.

“Albus!” Lily cried, jogging up the hill and tackling her brother. He grunted and wrapped his arms around her in a hug anyways. She pulled him down and into the tent.

They all turned and looked at Albus, silent. Like they had been expecting him to say a speech.

“How do you like that, motherfuckers?” He asked, and the room erupted in cheers. Someone popped champagne and shook it as it exploded all over him.

Albus was on top of the world.

* * *

**3 - Way Down We Go  
** _September 15th, 2032_

Albus was hung over; a bottle of firewhiskey and good times with friends had left him pulling his dark blankets over his head to try and go back to sleep – and he was just about there too, when there was a tapping at the window in the kitchen. He lay back in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe if he ignored it, it would go away.

“For fuck’s sake,” he finally groaned after the tapping had gotten louder. It wasn’t going away.

Albus got out of bed, finding pajama pants in a drawer and padded towards the kitchen where he opened the window. A ministry bird appeared, settling down on the back of Al’s kitchen table chair and stuck out it’s leg. Al pulled the letter from it, breaking the navy blue wax.

_Al,_

_Don’t worry about meeting me for lunch – We’ll be meeting at your flat tonight. 9:30._

_Dad_

Wonderful. Al shooed the owl from his kitchen and closed the window. He moved towards his bedroom, took off his pants, and crawled back under the covers.

* * *

The knock on the door brought Al from his daze, he had been sitting on the couch with his notebook open in front of him, but he wasn’t paying attention to it. The bottle of beer went untouched, the cigarette he pulled from the carton an hour ago still rested behind his ear. A ‘save-the-date’ laid open in front of him, Nora Nott and Caleb Finch’s wedding. Why he was invited was beyond him. Most likely it was a plea from Rhys, especially after what went down at the Quidditch World Cup.

He grabbed the save-the-date, throwing it into the fire he had started earlier in the evening and opened the door. His father stood on the other side with a tote bag of something, but what drew Albus’ attention was the hooded figure behind him.  He stood aside, letting them in. He closed and locked the door behind him, pulling his wand from the waistband of his pants and casting a few spells over his flat, making sure no eavesdroppers were able to hear.

“Your mother cooked you some food,” Harry announced, going to his son’s kitchen and dropping the food on the counter. Albus didn’t notice, more preoccupied with the woman standing in his living room.

“Minister,” he offered, crossing his arms.

Hermione pulled the hood down from off of her head. “Al,” she responded warmly.

“The whole fucking family is going to know, aren’t they? Want anything to drink?” He asked, as his aunt hung her cloak up by the door and took his apartment in. She had never been here; Harry had only been once before to look at his Hellhound armor and mask.

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look and nodded. “Fire whiskey, if you’ve got any. From what your father told me, it’s going to be a long night.”

Albus raised an eye and looked back at Harry, who was busying himself with fixing plates of shepherd’s pie in the kitchen. “Did he now?” Al nodded, “Yeah, I got some.” He joined his father in the kitchen to fix drinks.

Hermione busied herself getting her own materials out, spreading them out on the table, moving Al’s beer and carton of cigarettes - she didn't know he smoked. She looked around the flat, taking in how it was decorated. A few bookshelves lined the walls, filled with souvenirs from his travels around the world. Behind her, mounted on the wall were two broomsticks, both no doubt expensive, probably worth more than she made in a month. An owl cage sat in the corner empty; the Great Horned Owl that usually occupied it was out. She took a seat in the armchair next to the couch.

Albus set a glass and a plate down in front of her. Even though she was his aunt, it was still weird to have the Minister of Magic sitting in his living room eating off his IKEA plates.

“I want to see it,” she said, as Albus sat down next to Harry on the couch.

“What, my cock or…?”

Harry stared at him. “Seriously?”

“Your arm, Albus,” Hermione sighed, growing ever more annoyed with the situation.

Al was already rolling up the sleeve of his hoodie, and held it out towards her. She grabbed her glasses from her bag and put them on. She took his forearm and studied it. The wolf itself was in the tattoo style of his other one, she vaguely remembered him telling her it was American Traditional. But what struck her as she inspected it was how much of a man her nephew had become - he was almost 28. She always saw him as the meek eleven year old. Barely a wisp of hair on the boy besides his head. Now she was holding an arm covered in dark hair that crawled towards the back of his hand. He was grown up enough to make these decisions, to buy cigarettes.

He took his arm back and starting poking at his food.

“What's the initiation process?”

Albus looked up and stared ahead, annoyed. “I'm not talking about that - you don't _want_ to know about it.”

“Al, we _need_ to know.”

Albus dropped his plate on the table, and Hermione jumped. She watched her nephew get up, and stand in front of the table. “Fine, okay. You want to know? I've got two conditions.” Typical Slytherin.

He held out his index finger. “First, I've got blood on my name. I've killed people. I've killed muggles. _Innocent_ _people_.” He began to pace. “I am not a good person. I am helping you, and sacrificing a lot to make sure my family and friends end up okay after this. I can't even cast a patronus anymore.”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and shifted uncomfortably.

“Second, my self, Scorpius Malfoy and Rhys Nott will stay out of Azkaban. You can take us to trial. Do whatever. We will not go to prison. You understand?” He was a lot like Harry when he wanted something. He knew what to demand, Hermione would give him that.

“Okay. Deal,” Hermione said. “Sit down, eat your dinner, and tell us.”

Albus sighed and sat back down, picking up his plate and stabbing at his food. “Everyone is there, standing in a circle around a fire in a forest. Usually it’s the Forest of Dean,” he took a bite of food. “She calls the initiate forward, along with a sponsor. Cuts are made on both forearms, and blood is mixed when they hold hands.“

Hermione gasped, “Blood magic!” She scribbled something down in her note book.

Albus licked his lips and continued. “The sponsor uses his wand, placed over their hands. Kind of like an unbreakable vow. When it’s all said and done he has the mark.” He nodded down to his forearm, he cleared his throat, and put a fist to his chest, letting out a low burp. Harry rolled his eyes. “Then you prove yourself by killing a muggle. Prove your strength.” 

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances and then gave an uneasy look at Al’s wand sitting on the table. It didn't go unnoticed.

“I warned you,” Al pointed out.

* * *

It had been a long night, and it wasn't over. Harry was pouring over his notes inside while Al went out to his balcony and had a cigarette. His forearms rested on the brick wall, looking out at London. He brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a drag, savoring the taste and the way it burned his throat.

“I didn't know you smoked,” Hermione appeared behind him, closing the balcony door. She leaned on the wall and looked over at him. He was always the most attractive between the Potter boys, deep set green eyes, dark hair and beard and strong jaw always made him popular with the girls.

Al kept the cigarette between two fingers as he rubbed a spot on his forehead. “Yeah, bad habit, picked it up from a muggleborn on my first Pro-Quidditch team,” he said, taking another drag. It meant he was only 17 when he started smoking, barely the legal age to buy cigarettes.

“You know, Ron didn't even tell me that you were one of the good guys. He just came home, waving his arms saying you were one of the new Death Eaters. I was prepared to raid your house before Harry calmed me down and explained things.”

Albus gave a snort and turned around leaning against the brick, he crossed his arms. “Well, I am glad I am not behind bars right now,” he gave a low chuckle and took another drag from the cigarette. “My career would have been _ruined_.”

She looked over at him, about to chastise him for not taking this as seriously as he should. He was looking down, at his feet. He wasn't smiling.  He brought the cigarette up to his lips one more and took a long drag. He put it out on the wall and flicked it over the edge.

“Your dad said you don't kill,” she started slowly, “but what you told us in there…”

“I typically don't.” The smoke left his mouth as he spoke.

“So what do you do? Other than being a Potter and connected…?”

Albus looked over at her, half offended. She was insinuating he didn't have a use. “I am really good at the cruciatus curse.”

Her eyes went wide and she looked back over at him. “I stand by my decision,” he told her and went back inside to join his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine, nor are the song titles.


	3. Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an attack on Diagon Alley, and Albus is in the middle of it.

**4 - Believer  
** _October 24th, 2032_

The Wolf Mother stared at the group of five standing in front her. Each had their armor and masks on. She sat behind her desk, her everyday work spread out in front of her.

“Rookwood, Selwyn, Avery, Goyle, and Potter. I've called you today for a very special task,” she looked up at the five of them. “As you know, one of our… former family members was arrested. It has come to my attention that he will be transported today in Diagon Alley. He is going to testify and then we will all be exposed. We cannot let that happen,” she said. “Kill him.”

The men turned to leave. “Oh, and Albus,” She called. He turned back around. “You lead.”

* * *

 Harry had a bad feeling about this, even with the circumstances. He had five of his top guys escorting, himself included, but it didn't seem enough. He had reached out to Albus that morning on a tip about a possible attack, but Al never responded.  

“You know the drill,” Harry said, “keep your wands out. Keep in formation. They'll want their guy back, I'm sure. Be vigilant… let's move,”

One of his aurors grabbed the boy in chains, pushing him forward. He had been locked in a holding cell in Diagon Alley for a week, and now it was time for him to testify in front of the Wizengamot. To do so, they needed to move him from the cell in Diagon Alley to the Ministry, via Floo in the Leaky Cauldron - no Floo in a holding cell, after all. They would try and take as many back alleys as possible, but there was one point in their plan where they passed in front of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, leaving them completely exposed for attack. He had warned Ron and George beforehand. Ron was waiting.

They kept their wands out as they moved out into daylight. It was overcast and cold. They moved fast and with reason.

“This is it!” Harry called. “The home stretch, boys!  If we can get this far…”

Four men apparated in front of them, forming a blockade. The fifth apparated a few seconds behind in a cloud of black in front of them. Harry recognized the mask - each had their own individual identification marks. It was Al. He was leading. Then why didn't he say anything to Harry so they could have prepared? He put it behind him, more concerned the fact that Albus’ apparation was black instead of the usual white. Had he crossed that far?

“Pity you won't make it,” he heard Albus call. “Now. Let's be civil about this, shall we? Hand over our family member. Nobody will get hurt.” His gloved hand was outstretched. His wand was still in the holster on his thigh.

Harry saw Ron come out of the shop. Other shop owners were locking their doors and closing blinds.

“You'll stand down!” Harry called back. “Or you’ll be arrested for obstructing justice.”

Albus turned his masked head, and gave a single nod. The others pulled their wands, and spells began to fire between the Hellhounds and the Aurors. Albus was gone, lost in the fight, Harry tried to look for him. He kept the prisoner next to him, his wand was out. He backed into a corner, determined to finish this alive and get the informant to the Ministry.

He heard it, out of his left ear. The sickening sound of bones cracking and breaking. The Hellhound fell to a heap on the ground. His neck broken. The muzzle of Albus’ mask was close to his own nose.

“Al?” He asked dumbly.

A spell hit above their heads and they ducked as brick and stone rained over them. Ron had noticed the two of them standing face-to-face. Ron knew what Al’s mask looked like. Albus was now distracted, throwing spells back at his Uncle, and blocking the spells Ron was throwing at him. Harry pressed his back up against the wall, shaking. There was a ringing in his ears. Maybe that was because of the spell. His chest was starting to feel heavy, and he couldn’t breathe. He looked down at the kid, the boy was a Burke, no more than seventeen. His neck was twisted in an unnatural way.  He began to breathe harder, he was having a panic attack. This was a panic attack.

Albus said he had killed, but subconsciously he supposed he didn’t believe it. He was a believer now.

Albus got a hit on Ron, and blasted him to his back, knocking the wind out of him. He hurried over, kicking his wand out of the way, and put his boot on his chest as Ron struggled. “Let me up,” Ron snapped. Al could feel the eyes of his fellow Hounds on him.

“Now why would I want to do that?” Albus asked, pointing his wand at his Uncle’s face. Ron went to respond. His mouth opened, but no words came out - instead it was a scream. He thrashed around, but Al’s boot was still firmly planted on his chest. The screams echoed the street and spells whizzed past.

His screams only fed Albus’ hate, he was losing control of himself, and he knew it. He enjoyed it and he didn’t care - it scared him.

Arms wrapped around Albus, pulling him off Ron, breaking the curse. Ron began to cough, and turned over, emptying his stomach into the street. His vision began to fade in and out, but he saw Al struggling with Hugo before his vision going black and he passed out.

Al slammed Hugo back against a wall, and he felt the other let go of him. He turned around, hesitating before throwing a punch that landed his hand in glass and cut through the leather to skin. His cousin, he forgot, he had become an auror. He grabbed Al’s collar, pulling him around and throwing him up against the brick. Albus grabbed his shoulders, bending him over and giving him a knee to the groin. He stepped forward, pointing his wand to the ground.

“ _Videt Lupum._ " There was a flash and the stone cracked with a crunch.  A large wolf with snarling teeth and angry eyes had appeared in the cobblestone. He and the other Hounds disapperated.

Harry sat back on the wall. He had been useless, two of his five aurors were dead. His best friend tortured. All because his son, his _son_ who was supposed to be on _their side_. His son made them fail. His son was a killer.

This wasn't good.

* * *

**5 - Arsonist’s Lullaby  
** _October 25th, 2032_

The Malfoy Manor loomed up in the sky above him. He waved his wand over the iron gates and they swung open, he stowed his wand back inside his pocket. He made his way up the gravel walkway and up the stone steps to the big wooden doors which opened seemingly on their own.

Al nodded towards the house elf as she bowed low. “Master Malfoy is in the lounge,” she squeaked.

He opened the doors, his mouth open to tell Draco what had happened, but then stopped. Nora Nott and her mother, Pansy, sat on the couch with tea cups in their hands.

_Nora._

“It's nice to see you, Al.” Nora said coldly, setting down her cup on the saucer and getting up, grabbing her coat. Pansy took the hint.

“It's good to see you too, Nor,” he said, stepping aside to let the women pass.

“Well, I suppose we must leave you. Thank you for the tea, Draco.” Pansy said, standing and smoothing out her dress. “Come on, Nora,” Pansy gave Albus a nasty look at she passed.

The two women left.

Draco sat back. “I _really_ hate that woman.”

“Pansy? Didn't you two like… date?” Albus asked, sitting down in an armchair and pulled the kettle and an unused cup towards him. He poured himself a cup, adding in a spoonful of sugar and stirring.

“I would prefer not to remember that,” Draco said with a small chuckle. “I saw in the paper, the attack.”

“Scorpius wasn't there, if that's what you're wondering. It was a failure for the Ministry, they failed to keep an asset safe,” Albus took a drink of his tea. “Draco, it was… bad.”

“Two aurors dead along with the prisoner, and your father facing an inquiry. I'd say so. What happened?”

“I think I gave Dad a panic attack, for one. He was protecting Burke,” Albus had been sponsor for the kid. “So I apparated behind him and snapped his neck.” Draco tried to hide a wince. Albus was brutal, he always had been. He routinely hurt people on the Quidditch pitch, going as far to have a signature move where the other player hit the ground. Draco suspected it was only a matter of time before his brutality made its way off of the pitch.

“I pinned down Ron, too. I couldn't kill him, I mean. That would throw every agreement I have with my aunt and father out the window. So I had to… I had to, uh. Use cruciatus.”

Draco’s head snapped up, looking into the eyes of his practically adopted son. They were cold, emotionless. He’d seen him like this before, but every time he saw that, it made his blood run cold. He hated seeing him in this position. He knew why he was doing this, and he couldn’t fault him for it, but he knew better than most that it was a slippery slope.

“Al,” Draco started, eyes locked on the younger man’s. “I know you’re just following orders, keeping up appearances, but you’ve got to watch yourself. If you let yourself give in to Dark magic, it will _take over_. And there’s not much you can do to fix it once it has.”

Al stared back, his brow furrowing. His father gave him the same warning, the night he brought Hermione over to his flat. Just before they left, but Harry didn't know. He used dark magic very rarely, only when he absolutely had to.  
  
Albus gave an angry groan, standing up. He started to pace in front of the fire. "You think I don't know this?" He snapped. He had his father's temper. "I can't cast a patronus anymore, Draco. When I apparate, it's black. And when I had Ron pinned down, I didn't even have to say the curse." To have that much hate... it scared Al. He stopped, crossing his fingers behind his head and looking up to the ceiling. "I think your pep talk is a little too late."

Draco sagged a bit in his chair. He was afraid that. “What can I do to help, Al?”

Al sat back down in his chair, he sat forward, his forearms resting on his knees. “How do I keep my humanity?”

Draco closed his eyes for a moment. This was not an easy conversation to be having with a boy - he was absolutely still a boy to him -  who was like a son. Draco sat the cup in his hands on the table to buy him some time, his eyes hitting the floor as he dug up a part of himself he never wanted to reveal to anyone.

“You disassociate.” Draco said. “Your life, your family, work. None of it involves Dark magic. When you’re running with your Hounds, your personal life doesn’t exist. When you’re on the pitch, the Hounds don’t exist. You have to separate the two or you’ll never be able to live a normal life again. This is dangerous, Al, but you know that. The tricky part is you’ve already mixed the two worlds when you involved your father.”

Albus nodded, mulling over Draco’s words. He was having a hard time separating the two, most of his free time away from the Quidditch pitch was corresponding with his father and the Minister. “That’s just not… the whole reason why I joined was to help my father. He was involved from the start, regardless. Oh, and did I tell you? Ron and Hermione are involved too, so this is just one big clusterfuck as far as I’m concerned. Ron has a big mouth, I know I’ll be kicked out of the family by Christmas.”

He sighed, looking back up at Draco. “The problem is that this _is_ my personal life,” Albus groaned. “Merlin, I need a cigarette.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “The Minister and Weasley know? I know your father has a hard time keeping secrets from them, but this one- this one doesn’t really involve Weasley, does it?” Draco stood, scrubbing a hand down his face. He walked to the french doors leading out to the patio off the lounge, motioning for Albus to follow. “You can smoke out here, Al. Listen to me, if they say one cross word to you, I swear to Merlin, Albus, you come to me. You know you’re as good as my son. I’ll be damned if I let them abandon you for trying to bloody help them.”

Al followed him outside, pulling his pack of cigarettes and the muggle lighter from his pocket. He tapped the carton on his hand, opening it and pulling out the cigarette. He lit it and took a drag.  
  
"Oh yeah. No, he is very much involved. I mean, how long's it been, a year I reckon? Him not knowing for a year has got to be some sort of a record right?" Albus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And it was my fault anyways. Ron was in Dad's office when I went for lunch, and dad mentioned he was filling him in on stuff. I jumped to conclusions. Ron kinda figured out the rest, he maybe a fat, lazy fuck. But he's not dumb. He knew who I was in Diagon Alley."  
  
Albus stared out at the gardens. "You know, being kicked out wouldn't be a bad thing. Keep up appearances, at least. I can handle it. They'll figure it out anyways. You know how my family is about using our Patronus to communicate. Surprise!" He mimicked jazz hands, and put the cigarette back in his mouth. “I just feel bad about Rose and Scorp.”

Draco winced. “Yeah, I suppose once Weasley cuts ties with you, Scorpius will be shunned as well. Both my boys in one fell swoop. You know, Scorpius feels the same, Al. And Rose- she’s got some fire in her, just like her mum.” He smiled, glancing over to Albus.

Albus chuckled, shaking his head. He took another pull from his cigarette and pulled out his wand, vanishing it. He looked back over at the older man. 

Draco had been everything Harry hadn't when Al was growing up. A steady hand, there to guide him. He raised Scorpius and Albus on his own. He was at almost every Quidditch match while Al was in school. He was there when Albus practically got impaled. He bought Al his second broom after that incident. He was there when Al needed him the most. He offered a light smile. "Thank you, by the way. I owe you everything.”

“You don’t _owe_ me anything, Albus.” Draco said, clapping him on the back. “You’re my boy, you’ve earned everything you’ve ever gotten from me. My respect, my love. All of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own HP or Song Titles. :)


	4. Left Hand Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus goes Christmas shopping, and gets blood on him.

**6 - Left Hand Free  
** _December 20th, 2032_

“You know, I'm banned from coming to Christmas Eve dinner. Ron banned me. And it's your dumbass fault.” Scorpius said from the other side of the aisle. They were in an antique bookstore, it was a relatively small shop in Diagon Alley, stuck back into a corner. You wouldn’t know the shop existed if you didn’t pay attention. Scorpius had asked Albus along to pick out Christmas presents - he had taken a long lunch from his work at the Ministry. He could tell Albus was bored. He heard a book get put back on the shelf rather roughly, and his best friend came around the corner.

“That is bullshit and you know it,” he snapped, pointing his finger at him. “You know that it’s just as much your fault as it is mine. You took the…” he lowered the volume of his voice. “You took the bloody mark before me!”

Scorpius headed down the aisle, and Al followed. “Yes, however, you opened your mouth and you know you opened your mouth, and that’s how Ron found out. So this whole mess is because of you,” Scorpius informed him. It took Al everything not to throw a book at him - he didn’t want to end up having to pay for it.

Scorpius had been Al’s best friend since the train ride into Hogwarts their first year. They shared a boat, a dorm, laughs, heartache, and headache. When they were approached by her… they agreed to do it together. They clasped hands, vowing that no matter what would happen, they would be there together. They would be there to pull each other from the edge.

They were brothers.

“But, I admit, now I don’t have to worry about being polite,” Scorpius said, looking at the back of a book he had just picked up.  
  
“See, silver linings,” Albus grinned at him.  
  
“Just a quiet night at home with Grandmother and dad, and then a quiet day with Rose,” Scorpius stopped and smiled, no doubt thinking of the decent Christmas he’d be having.  
  
“I reckon that’s probably way better than mine,” Albus said. “I’ll get to watch Ron stuff his face for an hour and a half and then complain as to why none of his clothes from when he was an Auror still fit anymore.” He sat down in a chair.

Scorpius set his pile of books down on Al’s lap.  “Hold those for me, wouldja?” 

“Apparently, I had a choice?” He quipped.  
  
“I just get to hear Grandmother complain that our house elf is rude,” Scorpius shrugged, putting another book on top of the pile.

“Although she is not wrong.”

“Spuck just doesn’t have the _respect_ the other house elves had. Especially now that...that vile woman decided to be concerned about their rights,” Scorpius mocked his grandmother with a high polite voice.

Scorpius dropped another book on the stack Albus had on his lap. “You know I planned on proposing to Rose, right?”

Aw, _fuck_.

Scorpius just knew how to make Albus feel bad.

“You know, you don’t _have_ to do it in front of the family. Like, what about a nice quiet dinner or something. Doing that is so… _Weasley.”_  
  
“Hey, I’m asking a Weasley to marry me, and you’re half a Weasley.”

“Yeah, exactly. It’s so _Weasley._ It’s something _I_ would do. Don’t do what I would do. Do something… I dunno, do something quiet. I have a feeling Rose would like that better anyways.”

Scorpius nodded, mulling over his words. “Yeah, well, doing something you would do is usually something that I would avoid doing, so I will take your advice into careful consideration.”

Albus laughed, and immediately was shushed by a worker who glared around the corner at him, he checked his watch. “I need to get to my lunch meeting with dad. Let’s swing by the Leaky Cauldron when you get off, yeah?” He carefully moved the books from his lap to the chair.

“Yeah, mate, don't punch anyone.” Scorpius held out his fist and Al tapped it.

“No promises.”

* * *

Christmas shopping was apparently what _everyone_ was doing today. Albus was now tagging along with Harry as they shopped for his mother. He leaned up against the wall in a muggle clothing shop in a mall, and Harry flipped through clothes. Al had his pocket knife out and was flipping it open and closed.

“You’re going to kill yourself with that thing,” Harry told him, looking up at him with a raised an eyebrow.

“If that’s the way I go, then that’s the way I go,” Albus said, and Harry snorted. Al sighed, standing up straight and tucking the now closed knife into the back pocket of his jeans. Al had never been afraid to do things the muggle way, and Harry had respected Albus for that - even if it made him a little more vicious than need be. They hadn’t talked about the incident in Diagon Alley, and frankly both of them were a little afraid to. The way Al had snapped that kid’s neck… He shook the thoughts from his head.

“What do you think about this?” Harry asked pulling out a deep plum colored dress and holding it up. This had been the third store they had been into today.

“I dunno, doesn’t purple like… clash with her hair?” He asked, motioning to his own head.

The two Potter men stared at each other for a minute.

“Yeah, probably right,” Harry said, putting it back in the rack.

“Yeah,” Albus nodded, walking around the edge of the rack and Harry followed. They left the store, and Albus stopped by a cookie place. 

“We have been married for over 30 years,” Harry said once Albus had joined back up with him, a fresh bag of cookies in hand. “You’d think getting her something for Christmas would get easier. It was so much easier when you all were kids. We could just focus on you three.”  He reached over, grabbing a piece of Al’s cookie - despite a noise of protest - and took a bite.

“What about a new bag to take to work? Like a work bag, or something?” Al asked, taking a bite of his cookie.

“Well, they are typically called that,” Harry remarked, and Albus looked over at him.

It had been a while since the two of them had actually done something father and son, which was why Harry had suggested Christmas shopping instead of lunch and obsessing. Obsessing had gotten the two of them in this mess anyways. Harry had a bad habit of obsessing over work, spending long nights at the office, neglecting to pay attention to what his middle son was going through. He sought to fix that, better late than never, especially when he wasn’t even sure if his son was going to make it out of their current predicament alive and well.

“So, back in November,” he said as they went into a purse shop and made a bee-line to the leather tote bags. 

Albus rolled his eyes, knowing the conversation was coming. “I had to do it.”

"Yeah, but _that way_?” Harry asked.

“What if you had moved?”

Albus had a point, had he fired the killing curse and Harry had moved they wouldn’t even be having this conversation. Though the whole incident still didn’t sit right with him. He kept playing it back in his mind, how calm Albus had been, like killing another person wasn’t that big of a deal. But then, Albus had to probably act that way to keep from losing it.

“Do you like this?” Harry asked, holding up a brown leather tote, letting the incident go.

“I think _Mum_ will love it,” Al told him, taking another bite of his cookie.

* * *

 **7 - Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas  
** _December 24th, 2032_

Albus loved Christmas Eve. The family was together, it was happy, it was _normal._ Al apparated outside of The Burrow, as far as he could from the windows so they didn’t see the black. Turns out, as far as he could while still being within walking distance was in a half frozen pond.

“My Nikes,” he groaned, stepping out onto dry land and using his wand to siphon off the mud and the cold. He trekked up to the house, opening the door. The living room of the Burrow was covered in bright lights, a tree stood in the corner, decorated with brightly colored lights and bulbs. A petrified gnome spray painted gold in a tutu and cardboard angel wings rested on the top of the tree. A pile of presents were stacked. Al could see his had made it there safe.

“‘Aaay!” He greeted, and Lily looked up, shaking her head. He gave her a ‘what?’ Look.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. “Gran is pissed,” she whispered.

“Okay, what’s new? It’s everyday someone is mad at me for something in this family,” his good was quickly faltering.

“Don’t be stupid,” she snapped. “The magazine.”

 _Oh._ Yeah. The magazine. He was on this week’s cover of _Witch Weekly_. He forgot that his grandmother still got the magazine. Normally, it would have been a thing of celebration. Except, it wasn’t exactly frame-worthy. Al was naked. Very naked. The inside spread had him standing and holding a quaffle in front of his bits, the outside didn’t show much besides his chest and stomach.  It wasn’t like it was his idea. He just did what he was told, and what they told him was ‘strip.’

“ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER,” they heard the screech from the kitchen.

“Run.” Lily suggested, almost like it was his last resort. “Run, and don’t look back.”  

Molly descended on him out of nowhere, the magazine rolled up and she began to hit him with it. “You! Are! Disgusting! So exposed! Rita Skeeter had a field day! Your mother played professional Quidditch and _she_ didn't go nude!” She grabbed his hoodie, pulling it off of him, and pushed up the sleeve of his t-shirt, revealing his snake and dagger tattoo. She was twisting his arm in a way it didn’t go. “AND WHAT IS THIS?”

“Gran… Gran. It’s a muggle tat--- Gran you’re hurting me. Gran. _Gran_. Please let go.” Albus pleaded, and she finally let him go, giving him a once over as he adjusted his shirt. She shoved his jacket into his arms with more force than he expected a woman of her size. He threw it on the back of the arm chair.

Ginny was standing in the entryway from the kitchen to the living room and shook her head before turning back around to go finish cooking. Lily followed her.

“Shit,” he swore, dropping down on the couch next to James. He held out his arms for his niece, June. James handed her over and he sat her on his lap.

“How’s Sarah?” Albus asked, looking at his brother. James looked more worn than Albus had ever seen him. He supposed juggling a job, and two kids was exhausting. “Mate, you look like shit.”

“I know, I’m exhausted, long nights at work. Sarah’s fine, she’s in the kitchen, helping I think.”

The two of them sat in silence after that, unsure of what to say to each other. They never had anything in common, really, besides a name. They looked different: James had shorter, pale red hair and brown eyes, he was clean shaven. He was shorter and lankier than Albus was. Albus was black haired and green eyed. He wore a beard, and his hair was long, currently pulled back in a bun. Even the way the two of them dressed was different. James was in a conservative polo shirt and jeans. Albus was in jeans, a white v-neck, a navy zip-up hoodie and tennis shoes, though the hoodie had been abandoned. The two brothers couldn’t have been more different.

George came into the room,  “way to piss Mum off on Christmas, mate.”

“Fuck off.”

“Language!” He heard from the kitchen. Rose came in and sat down on the edge of the couch, he looked up at her and mouthed a 'sorry,' and she shrugged, patting him on the back. She was one of the original people to know what was going on from the beginning. 

“Al,” Ginny said coming into the living room. “Will you send your father a patronus and let him know dinner is almost ready. He's tied up at work and didn't want to be late.”

Aw, _shit_.

“Nah, I'm good. Make James do it,” he nodded towards his brother. Who shook his head, he didn’t want to do it.

“Excuse me?” Ginny asked, crossing her arms. “You maybe 27, but I am still your mother. And you will send your father a patronus.”

“No.”

Ron had come into the room.

“He can't cast one,” Ron said, breaking the silence in the room.

“That's ridiculous, Ron,” Ginny snapped. “His patronus is a wolf, I've seen it. Go on.”

Al shook his head. “No.”

“He won't because he _can't_ ,” Ron reiterated.

Al stood up, handing June back to James. He stared at his uncle. “Don't. Not tonight, another time, not Christmas.” He pleaded.

“He can't cast one. You didn't hear him apparate, did you? He apparated far away from the house because his apparation is _black_. And he didn’t want anyone to see.” Ron came close to Al. “Hugo, you remember the Hellhound that was torturing me in Diagon Alley? The one you pulled off of me?” Hugo nodded, silent. Ron motioned to Albus, as though revealing the grand surprise.

“Dad, that wizard that used the Cruciatus curse on you didn’t say the word. Al isn’t _that_ good,” Hugo said.

“ _Thanks_ , Hugo,” Al said, sarcasm lacing his voice.

“You can cast one hell of a Cruciatus Curse, can’t you? You didn’t even need to say a word,” Ron muttered to him. “You’re a monster.”

Al knew what Ron was doing. This was payback.

“He doesn't even have the mark. Come on, Ron, come off it,” Bill called.

“See this is where it gets brilliant,” Ron said. “It's hidden,” he pulled his wand, pointing it at Al’s arm. “ _Aparecium_!” The wolf began to slowly appear, red eyes glaring and mouth snarling.

“It's…” Al started.

“It's what, Al?” Ron asked, holding out his arms. He got closer to Al's face, their noses almost touching. “You were a mistake. And everyone here knows it.”

Sinatra had begun to sing from the radio, the song ironic and wrong.

Al stared at him, his mouth hanging open. He was trying to process what Ron had just called him. A mistake. A _mistake_. Albus’ eyes grew dark and he yelled, tackling Ron. The two of them hit the ground, Albus on top of him. His knees pinning his arms down, and his hand going to his throat.

_“Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas, let your heart be light.”_

Al’s fist made contact with Ron’s jaw, and he could feel teeth cracking.

_“From now on, our troubles will be out of sight. Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”_

Al’s fist connected again, cheekbone breaking and collapsing under the numerous hits. Al adjusted his grip on Ron’s neck, and punched again. Albus could hear Ron’s nose breaking, it gave a sickening _squelch_ like noise.

_"Here we are as in olden days, golden days of yore.”_

Blood began to pool on the carpet, and had sprayed up on Albus’ face when he punched again.

_“Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow.”_

“Someone get him off!” He could hear, though it sounded so far away. Arms wrapped around him, pulling him off of Ron. He struggled against them, grunting angrily. Harry finally let him down, having shown up sometime after Albus had begun to wail on him. Hugo had his wand pointed at him. Molly and Hermione shoved past him. Rose stood back, looking at Albus with wide eyes. His face was covered in blood, and his own hands were swollen and knuckles were broken.

_“Hang a shining star up on the highest bough! And have yourself a Merry Little Christmas, now!”_

Ron coughed, spitting out a broken piece of tooth. Ginny had her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. James was standing, holding June, he put her head in his shoulder so she wouldn’t see.  

Albus pushed past Hugo, Harry made a grab for his son’s arm, “Albus, no,” he said.

He shook him off. Albus stood over Ron, glowering down at him. Hermione pulled her wand, pointing it at Albus. He held out his hand to tell Hermione to stop, and pointed a shaking finger at Ron. Harry noted he was having a hard time closing his fist - his hand was messed up.

Ron glared up at Al, one of his eyes half swollen shut.

“You are no better than me,” Albus snapped. “You’re a lazy piece of shit too hung up on old prejudices to see that I’m not a bad person.”

“Albus, uh… if I may,” George spoke up. “You kill people, and you think that muggles should be our slaves. I say you're worse than Ron.”

If Harry hadn't grabbed Albus back, George would have probably been lying next to Ron.

Arthur had appeared in the doorway, he was putting all his weight on his cane. “Out,” he said. His voice was even and calm. “Get out of my house. Do not come back, I do not want to see you here. I do not want to hear you. You are no grandson of mine.”

Albus grabbed his jacket, opened the door, and slammed it behind him as he left. He trudged to the border of the house and disapparated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who's read so far! I've been wanting to write this for a long, long, loooong time.
> 
> And thank you to Casey for stroking Al's ego.


	5. Hellfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco Malfoy talks to two Potters.

**8 - Hellfire  
** _December 24th, 2032_

The Manor glowed bright with Christmas lights, a tree could be seen in one of the windows. The large hedges that lined the gravel drive were decorated with enchanted twinkle lights.

Albus strode up to the large wrought iron gates and pulled his wand with his good hand, pointing it at the gates. They swung open with a dull creak and he continued forward.

He took the steps up to the door two at a time, and they opened up, letting him in. Al ignored everything, he ignored Scorpius and Draco coming out of the dining room.

“Was he covered in blood?” Scorpius asked, looking over at his father.

“I think so. I’m going to go see what’s up. Have Spuck fix him a plate for dinner and make up his room,” Draco said, following Al up the stairs.

He found the bathroom, pushing open the door and turning on the water ’til it was scalding. He grabbed the bar of soap from the corner of the sink and began to scrub the blood from his hands - ignoring the searing pain from his knuckles. He just needed to get this blood off of himself. He paused, briefly, looking up at the mirror at himself. Specks and splashes of blood dotted his face, going as far as his forehead. He looked like a monster.

The soap slipped from his hands, landing in the bottom of the sink. “Fuck!” He grunted, trying to pick it back up again. The cuts on his knuckles began to bleed again. “Why… fuck me, why won’t this come off?”

Draco leaned on the door with an almost casual air, though his face still held a little bit of tension. A part of him feared what Albus would tell him.

“Yours, or someone else’s?” Draco asked gently, trying to sound as unattached as possible.

“Ron’s,” Albus responded, turning the heat of the water down. He leaned down, splashing water over his face. “Definitely put him in Mungo’s.”

Draco straightened up from the doorway, and came into the bathroom a bit more. “And what did that arsehat do to set you off?” He asked, concern and anger warring in his expression. “Please, for the love of Merlin, don’t tell me he opened those fat lips of his.”

“Mum asked me to cast a patronus, and I told her no. He decided to tell them, probably as some sort of sick revenge for the Diagon Alley incident, and then decided to tell them why.” Albus gingerly took the hand towel from beside the mirror, drying his face. “He made my mark visible to them. He called me a monster, and a mistake. Then I fucked up his face.

“I almost killed him, Gran’dad kicked me out of the family, told me that I wasn’t his grandson. So, how’s your Christmas?”

“Who stopped you? From killing him?” Draco asked, ignoring the Christmas comment. He knew Al was resorting to sarcasm to keep from breaking. He and Ron may have hated each other, but they were still family at the end of the day.

Draco took Albus’ hand gently into his own, and pulled his wand from his pocket. He began to work on Al’s knuckles like he had many times before - Al had a bad habit of punching walls. He focused his energy on healing him - he didn’t want to be tempted to finish what Albus had started.

“Dad,” he sighed. “I almost went after Uncle George too.”

“Your dad was there and he didn’t _explain_?” Draco asked, brow furrowing in frustration. “He let your grandfather kick you out of the family you’re trying to _protect_?” Draco’s grip on his wand tightened, his own knuckles turning white. Still, the pressure on Al’s hand was firm, but gentle.

A warmth spread through Al’s fingers as Draco worked - the few years training to become a healer had paid off. Why Draco had dropped out, Albus didn’t bother to ask. He assumed it had to do with Scorpius’ mother dying. Draco still wore his wedding ring, even though it had been over 20 years since she had died.

“No,” Albus shrugged. “And frankly, I’m fine with it. I reckon the less people that know about it - the better. Besides, it gets messy. I don’t have to worry about a duel lifestyle so much. I don’t have to keep anymore secrets. I’m only doing it for James, Lily, and Rose anyways.”

Al took his hand away from Draco’s, and flexed it. It was still sore, but at least it wasn’t broken anymore. He leaned against the sink, his palms resting against the edges.

“He called me a _mistake_. That piece of shit. All because I don’t fit into the Weasley standard of red hair and lions.” Albus scoffed in disbelief, shaking his head.

Albus already had a death wish, the two of them knew it. The way he played Quidditch, joining the Hounds. Albus was suicidal, even if he didn’t tie a noose around his neck. Draco sighed, worried this would make those tendencies worse.

“Albus, you are most certainly not a mistake. You are one of the best things that’s happened to me, to Scorpius. Without you - well, we wouldn’t be in a very good place. I’ve told you several times you’ve earned your place in my house, Al. I meant it. The _mistake_ was him underestimating you. He’ll survive whatever comes next… but just barely; and I want you to make sure, son, that he knows he’s only alive because of you.”

Albus looked up at him - a hellfire in his eyes. The pep-talk had stirred something inside of him. “He will know. They will all know… But they’ll _burn_ before they’re saved,” he promised. “I’ll make sure.”

It wasn’t about saving his family anymore - it was about proving them wrong.

* * *

Scorpius leaned up against the banister of their staircase, waiting for the two of them to come down the stairs. Eventually they emerged, Albus was cleaned up. His best friend seemed to be a magnet for violence - it tended to follow him.

Draco clapped Scorpius on the back. “I’m going to go finish dinner,” he announced, leaving the two boys standing in the foyer.

“Rose sent me an owl,” Scorpius started. Albus crossed his arms and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Ron’s going to be fine, he’s at Mungo’s. Apparently, you got him good.”

“I hope so, I broke my fucking hand on the bastard’s face,” Al said. “Is Rose mad?”

“Worried, I think,” he motioned towards the dining room. “For both of you. She’s kinda proud of you, she said someone’s been needing to do that to her father for years - maybe not to that extreme, though,” he grinned.

“Oh, I’m officially out of the family. So gotta thank Merlin for that one.”

Scorpius’ smile faded. “Yeah, that’ll be an interesting bridge,” he and Rose lived together. They went to work together every morning, and came home together. When Scorpius wasn’t with Albus, he was with Rose. Rose with his everything. The Weasley’s liked to jumped to conclusions, no matter how right they were. They knew that he was probably a Hellhound too. They would probably try to keep Rose from him. “Things are changing now, aren’t they?”

Albus stopped, putting his hand on Scorpius’ shoulder. Green eyes met grey. “They won’t keep Rose from you. She’s too stubborn, also she lives with you. It’s not like they can ground her from leaving the house, mate.” He started walking towards the dining room again.

Scorpius stopped and looked at Albus’ back. He had to fight harder than ever, now.

* * *

 **9 - The Wolves  
** _December 26th, 2032_

Christmas morning hadn’t been the same in the Potter household.  Presents went untouched under the tree. There hadn’t been any laughing, no sarcasm… no insults. Dinner had been quiet, except for the occasional babble from the grandchildren. They tried to act normal, like Al was at a Quidditch match. Like he would walk in the door any moment smelling of cigarette smoke, and a spark in his eye.

Ginny didn’t sleep that night. She had tossed, and turned, and cried. Her shoulders had shaken with sobs, though she was trying as hard as she could be quiet. Her boy, her Al. A Hellhound. Harry eventually spooned up against her. She was mad at Ron, furious at her son, but ready to kill if he got hurt. Harry eventually turned on the light, and explained everything.

She made him go sleep on the couch.

Harry cracked his neck, he couldn’t focus. He threw his fountain pen down, and stood up. He grabbed his jacket from the back of the door, and closed it behind him. “I’ll be gone for the rest of the afternoon, Sydney,” he told his receptionist and left the Ministry.

* * *

The first place Harry tried had been Al’s flat. He knocked and waited, and knocked again. Apparently he wasn’t home, the was apartment dark when he tried to peek in through the crack in the blinds.

Which landed him here. The Malfoy Manor loomed up above him, he hadn’t been there since the raids after the Second Wizarding War - nearly 35 years ago. It hadn’t changed either - at least from the outside, Harry noted. He stared up at the gate, briefly wondering how to open it before they swung open themselves. He slowly walked up the gravel drive, taking his time.

Harry knocked on the big wooden doors, and they swung open, revealing a small house elf. “Yes?” She asked.

“Is Albus here?”

“He stepped out,” she said, going to close the door.

Harry put his hand on the door to hold it open and keep her from closing it. “Wait. Is Malfoy here?”

The elf rolled her eyes and held open the door, “I’ll go fetch him,” she said, and let Harry into the foyer. The house had been redecorated recently, it seemed. It was warmer than it had been all those years ago. Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking up when Draco came around the corner.

“Have you seen Albus?” He asked, straight to the point. He was trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

Draco stared at him. “A simple hello would have done fine. Spuck, prepare us some tea, serve it in the library.” He turned around on his heel, walking back the way he came. Harry took it as a cue to follow.

“So, you have seen him.”

“Of course I’ve seen him, Potter. He was covered in his Uncle’s blood, had a broken hand, and murder in his eyes.” Draco said coldly, crossing his arms.

Harry swore inwardly, trying to swallow his jealousy that Albus would go to Draco Malfoy, of all people. “So, he came here after. Did he say anything? About what happened? Merlin, I had to pull him off Ron,” Harry said, sitting down on the couch as Draco took a seat in an arm chair. He ran his hand through his already messy hair. “Murder? He wouldn’t have killed Ron,” he finally questioned, looking up at the other man.

“You bet your ass he would have, Potter. He risked his life coming to you about the Hounds. Not only did he risk his life, but the lives of his best friends as well. And do you want to know the only goddamn reason behind that? To save your pathetic excuse of a family. He loves his brother and sister - his niece. Potter, he’d give his life for Rose, as would Scorpius. He came to you with this information to save even Ron’s useless hide, and his uncle, who knew he was one of the good guys, _sold him out_.” Draco spat, his face flushing bright pink. “Not only did he sell him out, Harry, he called him a goddamn _mistake_.”

Harry clenched his jaw, looking down at his hands. His jealousy was creeping up into his throat. He tried to swallow it back down. How did Draco know all of this? Harry always knew that Albus had some ulterior motive to joining the Hounds and helping Harry. He just didn’t realize that the motive was saving his own family and friends. He didn’t quiet realize what he and Scorpius were sacrificing to destroy the so called “Wolf Mother” from the inside.

“None of my children are mistakes,” he said weakly. “I didn’t know Ron called him that, nobody heard what Ron said to him just before Albus went ballistic - just that he lost it.”

“Albus takes his mission very seriously, Harry. He will do what he must to save you, but after this incident - after being banished from the family without even a word from you - you’d better watch your back,” Draco sneered.

“He’s fully embraced the Dark, hasn’t he?” Harry asked, glaring up at Draco. “Because apparently you know more about him at this point than I do, and I’m his father.”

“Then you really should start _acting like it_ ,” Draco scolded. “You saw his apparition in Diagon Alley - it’s _black_. He can’t cast a patronus, anymore. He asked me not too long ago how he was supposed to retain his humanity. He’s standing at the edge of a pit, Potter. I’ve been exactly where he is. He’s either going to fall into that pit, or someone is going to have to pull him away from the edge. The question is, what would you rather do? Do what you’ve done for the past 17 years, and watch him fall in? Or are you finally going to step up to the plate?”

Harry stood up, staring Draco down. “You know what I’d rather do.”


	6. We Don't Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus and Lily get drunk. Albus has a meeting with the Wolf-Mother.

**10 - We Don’t Know  
** _January 15th, 2033_

Lily raised her fist, hesitating. She stood outside of her brother’s flat, a canvas tote filled with wine, and a pizza box in hand. She hadn’t seen or talked to her brother since Christmas time, and she was anxious. Part of her wanted to turn away, leave and go home.

She originally was furious, she felt betrayed. Her older brother, the one she looked up to the most. The voice in her head - telling her to not be like him.

It wasn’t until Rose sat her down at lunch and explained things that she finally understood. Lily was still mad that he kept it from her, she remembered the pinky promise they made before he went off to Hogwarts, after all. They promised each other they wouldn’t ever keep secrets. Of course, both of them had broken it - but she had decided then and there that they wouldn’t ever keep secrets from each other again.

The door opened without her knocking, and she tried to hide the surprise on her face. A long legged blonde stepped out. She eyed Lily, gave a snort, stuck her nose in the air and left. Lily shook her head, stepping into the apartment. Albus was busying himself, picking up his clothes from the living room. He had black sweatpants on, the waistband rolled low on his hips.

“If anything you are consistent,” she said, standing in front of him.

Albus looked up at her from bending over to grab his jeans. “At least I’ve got that goin’ for me,” he stood up straight. She glanced down at his arm - his mark was clearly visible.

Lily pushed past him anyways, heading towards the kitchen and setting the pizza and the tote down on the counter. He pulled a shirt on and came in, leaning up against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“What _are_ you doin’, Lils?” He finally asked.

“Feeding you, and getting you drunk,” she held up a bottle of wine. “Rose told me everything,” she said, looking through every cabinet she could for plates.

“Don’t worry about plates,” he said, pulling down two wine glasses from the cupboard above them. She pointed her wand at one of the wine bottles and the cork shot out. Albus caught it for her, setting it back on the counter. She poured two glasses and he grabbed the box, heading towards the living room.

“So, Rose told you all of it?”

Lily nodded, setting down the wine glasses on the coffee table next to the box Albus just sat down. “And I decided that we aren’t keeping secrets from each other anymore, so here we are.”

Albus offered a small smile. “I take it you’re not mad.”

“Oh, I’m still furious you’d keep something like this from me,” she said, taking a piece of pizza from the box. “My big brother the Hellhound,” she said, sarcasm lacing her voice. He winced.

“How’s Ron?” Al asked, grabbing his own slice and took a bite.

“He’s fine, still bruised. Apparently people keep asking him about it at the shop. Dad threatened him with castration, so he’s just been making stuff up.”

Al snorted.

Lily looked over at him, “you know, I was… I am cheering for you. Uncle Ron was always mean growing up. We all figured it was a matter of time. Just the other details kinda took us all for a surprise.”

“I am nothing but consistent,” he grinned over at her.

“Yeah, a consistent slut.”

* * *

The two of them had ended up on the floor, their backs resting against the couch. Albus had pushed the coffee table off to the side. The pizza box and crusts (Lily didn’t eat hers) lay abandoned. She passed the bottle of wine back to Al and he took a swig.

Both of their cheeks were pink, and both were drunk. Lily’s plan had been working, she leaned her head against his shoulder and was laughing hard.

“Yeah. So Dad opens the door, _without knocking_ , and I’m definitely balls deep in Breanna Finnigan.”

“The Gryffindor? The one like a year ahead of me, and a year under you?” Lily asked, completely focused on his story, she was trying to keep from giggling. She gasped, as though a thought hit her, and her eyes went wide. “ _Dad’s friend’s kid_?”

“Yeah, that one. And… we made eye contact,” he took another drink of the bottle. “And I completely lost my boner then and there. Dad just closed the door, I think he went outside… remember we didn’t see him until like, dinner?”

“He came back, and… and…” Lily couldn’t keep from giggling and reached over, grabbing the bottle from him. “He was completely pale, he looked sick,” she took a long drink. “Merlin, I can’t believe I’m talking about sex with my older brother.”

“You started it.”

She snorted and gave a shrug, he did have a point. “What was that girl’s name anyways?”

“…Casey? Claire? Carmen? Something with a C.”

“Oh my God, you don’t even _know her name_?”

“Ask me when I’m sober.”

“You know, she gave me a dirty look when she left. I don’t like her.”

“Yeah, well. She’s the least annoying out all of them.”

She looked over at him in mock horror. “ _There’s more than one?”_

Albus shrugged.

“What was it that James said though? _Still_ says?” She asked sitting up straighter, trying to smooth out her face. “Don’t touch him, he’s probably got a disease,” she mocked. “Now I know why he said that. You could probably spit in a petri dish and start a new civilization.”

Albus took the wine bottle back. “I don’t have a disease, Merlin. And! Apparently you don’t care, considering we’re sharing our… what is this? Second bottle of wine?”

“Third.”

“I make two million galleons a year, you’d think I could count how many bottles of wine we’ve drank.”

Lily glanced over at him, “Al, have you considered how _obscene_ that is? You make t _wo million galleons_ a year, okay? Aunt Hermione - the Minister of Magic - makes only _fifteen thousand_ a year.”

“Oh, I’ve considered it. I think James considered it too, the last time I went into the bank. I think he briefly thought about stealing from me.”

“Nah, he’s too much of a stuck up and by the book. You know, I asked him to come ”

“What was his excuse?”

“That he has a job and two kids and can’t.”

“Fuck him,” Al said, draining the rest of the bottle they were working on.

“Hey, Al,” Lily said, after a minute of silence. “I know you’re going through a lot of… really tough shit right now. Stuff I can’t even begin to fathom. Albus, I’m on your side. Whatever that is, and whatever that means. You’re my big brother, even though I’m 90% sure I have more maturity in my pinky than you do in your entire body… but, I’m there for you.”

She put her hand on top of his, and laced their fingers. She held his arm up, and she looked at the wolf. “You know, in some cultures, wolves are seen as protectors,” she mused.

“This road ahead of us is long, and scary, and it’s not going to be easy. We don’t know if we’ll be okay, and we don’t know where we’ll end up, but I have hope. A lot of things have been built on hope, let’s build this too.”

Lily pressed her forehead to Al’s. “I love you, big brother.”

“I love you too, Lils.”

“Are you sure you don’t have a disease?”

“ _Positive_.”

* * *

 **11 - Bad Girls  
** _February 12th, 2033_

Morgan Fawley stared at the newspaper in front of her, raising a glass of wine to her lips. Her mark - The Mark of the Grim, as it was called now - stared back at her, cut deep into cobblestone. The headline “ **HELLHOUNDS ATTACK AGAIN — ATTEMPTS TO REMOVE MARK FROM DIAGON ALLEY FAIL,** ” splashed across the front page.

The mark had been there since November, which meant the lack of progress in trying to get rid of the curse was starting to make people nervous - especially when it was starting to appear more frequently after each attack. People were avoiding the mark all together in Diagon Alley, refusing to step near it, go around it, or step on it. Some were even afraid to look. Some shops were even starting to shutter because of it.

The attack on the aurors had been successful, the betrayer had been killed. Despite being his sponsor, vouching for the boy, Albus Potter had no attachment, she noted. He also held no attachment when he tortured his uncle - it had come back to her, after all. He had passed her test.

She took another drink of her wine.

She had come from a long line of purebloods. She was a direct descendant of a bastard child between Morgan Le Fay and a Welsh wizard named Arawn - though nobody in the family liked to admit the bastard part. Arawn had been a breeder of creatures - his most famous were his hounds. Half spectral ghost and half wolf, he often took them on hunts - murdering muggles, witches, and wizards alike and earning their names: grims, hellhounds, and ratchets. Eventually they had become extinct - becoming nothing more than a legend, like her ancestors. The family tree had extended from the bastard, curving and whittling down to the Fawleys. They took their blood purity seriously, which in turn had spawned years of hatred of muggles and muggleborns. Her grandfather had been a lowly Death Eater for Voldemort; her father had been too scared to join. She had grown sick of the cowardice her family showed, so she had decided to do something about it. She wanted to bring her family back to it’s former glory.

Muggles were _lowly_ , half of the wizard population was  _lowly_. She was disgusted by their willingness to breed and mate with those who should have been slaves. Those with magical abilities were smarter, more clever, at the top of their game. It had been easy to gather followers, as most of Voldemort’s old ones had been eager to step up to the plate. Some were hesitant, but she wore them down eventually. She had spouted that Voldemort was stupid, focused on personal exploits instead of the greater good. She was focused on the bigger picture, the end goal. Voldemort had been too obsessed with Harry Potter - and he failed because of it.

She promised she would not make the same mistake twice - which is why she recruited Albus Potter into her ranks. Albus had a head full of darkness and violent tendencies. She sought to exploit those qualities as much as possible - and so far it was succeeding. He had proven effective more than one time at completing the mission, and he did it with deadly precision.

Morgan pulled the sleeve up of her robes, revealing the hellhound branded into her flesh and focused on his face, touching it, calling to him.

It wasn’t more than two minutes later that there was a knock on her door. “Enter,” she called.

Albus entered the room, closing the door behind him. “You wished to see me?” He asked, his voice deep and husky.

“Take a seat. Wine?” She offered.

“No, thank you,” he pulled out one of the leather chairs in front of her and sat. Old leather bound books littered the desk, his eyes glanced over them briefly.

“My family’s work,” Morgan smiled, standing up. “My ancestor bred hellhounds. I am currently looking for a way to bring them back,” she grabbed a book from her desk and handed it to him. A crest was embossed in the leather on the front and he ran his fingers over it.

“It’s a copy of Morgana’s,” she told him, answering his unasked question. “I spend most of my time here, studying the lore. Attempting to restore my family’s legacy,” she tapped one of the books with a wolf on the front. “Albus, it has come to my attention just how effective you are. Your ruthlessness, your forcefulness. Which is why I have chosen you for a very special task.”

“Miss?” Albus asked, furrowing his brow and sitting up a little straighter.

“I want you to find Morgana’s staff for me,” she took another, more recent book from behind her on the desk and handed it to him. A drawing of it was laid out on the page. It was a twisting piece of oak, a gem set in the top. “It’s what I need to finish my conquest, Albus. I assume you wish to see that through?”

Al looked up at her. “Of course,” he nodded.

“Good, then you’ll get started immediately. Take the journal, it’ll be of use to you,” she came around the back of his chair, resting her hands on his shoulders and she leaned down, her lips close to his ear. “Do not fail, or there will be consequences. I know of your meetings.” Her nails dug deep into his shoulders before letting go. Cold ran down his spine at her words.

“You are dismissed.”

He stood up to leave, his hand on the doorknob. "Oh, and Albus. If you do not succeed in a decent amount of time, I'll rip out your pretty little sister's fingernails one-by-one, and scalp that beautiful red head before I kill her and make you watch,” she smiled back at him, taking another sip of wine.


	7. Bad Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus freaks out, and steals things.

**12 - Bad Things  
** _Later that night.  
_ _February 12th, 2033_

Albus burst through the door of his flat, slamming the door a little harder than he intended behind him. Ramses, his Great Horned Owl, looked up at him from under his wing, glaring. He still had a cigarette in his mouth, and it smoldered as he grabbed a pen and paper from his desk. Ramses flew from his cage - it was always open - landing on his shoulder. His handwriting was sloppy and shaky.

He sealed the last letter, handing the stack of two letters to Ramses who took it into his beak. “Scorpius, and Rhys,” he told the bird, taking the cigarette from his mouth, and opening the window for the owl who soared out it.

He put the cigarette back in his mouth, before pausing. What the hell was he doing? He never smoked inside. He took one last drag, putting it into a beer bottle that had not much more than a few drops left in it. He could hear the sizzle as it went out.

He grabbed the journal from where he left it on the desk, and sat down on the couch with a pad of paper and a pen. He unwound the cord from the journal, and opened it up.  

Al had gotten halfway through when there was a knock on his door. He put his pen into the book to mark the page. “It’s open!” He called, heading towards the kitchen as both Rhys and Scorpius walked through the door.  

“Anyone want a beer?” He asked, trying to keep himself calm and cool.

“Sure,” Rhys nodded, sitting down on the couch and picking up Albus’ notepad. “Al, what is this?”

“Yeah!” Scorpius called, sitting down in the arm chair.

Al brought the three bottles in and sat two of them down on the table. Scorpius immediately reached for his.

“Al?” Rhys asked again. “What is this?” He held up the notepad with a raised eyebrow.

“She knows,” Al told them, and both sat up straighter. Scorpius put his beer back on the table.

“What?”

“Yeah, she knows. And… and… now I’ve got to find Morgana’s staff, because I guess it’s powerful, and will help her conquer the world. And if I don’t find it, she’s going to hurt Lily, and she’ll probably hurt Nora and Rose too,” he sat down on the couch, putting his head in his hands.

Rhys and Scorpius glanced at each other. They supposed they always knew that she would find out eventually - she wasn’t exactly stupid.

“What’s this ‘I’ you speak of?” Scorpius finally asked, staring at his best friend. “You’re an idiot if you think we’re gonna let you do this by yourself.”

Rhys nodded in agreement. “She didn’t say you can’t have help, did she?” Albus shook his head. “See, exactly. So we are going to go find this bitch’s staff.”

Albus gave them a small smile, standing back up. “So, basically. We need to find Avalon.”

“Avalon.” Both Rhys and Scorpius echoed slowly.  

“She was Queen of the Island of Avalon.”

“Right,” Scorpius said, furrowing his brow.

Albus reached forward, picking up the journal with her crest embossed on the front. “Fawley gave me this. It’s a copy of Morgana’s journal. I think if we cross-reference this with known texts we can find the location.”

“Al,” Rhys said, sitting forward. “You do realize that all those texts are under lock and key in the Ministry.”

Albus thought for a moment, looking over at Ramses who had just made an appearance and was drinking from his water dish. He grabbed the notepad, tearing from it two pieces of paper, scribbling on both, then handed them to Ramses. “Take these to Draco.” The bird huffed before flying off again.

Scorpius raised an eyebrow. “What’s dad gonna be able to do?”

“They know my owl. I’m having him get a message to my father.”

“You are _not_ meeting with him,” Scorpius warned. “She already knows, Albus that is the dumbest idea since your last dumb idea and no offense, but you've got a lot of them.”

“I’ve got to at least ask.”

* * *

Albus kept his hands in his jacket pockets, his right hand firmly clenched around his wand. He walked down the back alley street, a distinct feeling that he was being followed. He kept the hood of his jacket up, and his head down.

He opened the door to the diner, sitting down in a booth in the back. Harry followed in not long after him, sliding in across from him.

Al briefly considered telling his father what was going on, about Lily and the search for Morgana’s staff, but decided against it. He glanced up at his father, noting how bad he looked. Late nights at the Ministry were most likely taking a toll on him. He had a nasty cut above his eyebrow.

“You look like shit.”

“ _Thanks…_ what’s up?”

“I need access to the Ministry’s library,” Albus said, picking up the menu the waitress brought to the table. The door dinged and a man came in, sitting on the opposite side of the restaurant. Al narrowed his eyes. “We’ve got a new friend over your left shoulder,” he said, casually.

“Then we’ll make this quick. Why?”

“I can’t tell you, but it’s important,” he had decided to go against telling his father about the incident with Lily and Morgan. “I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important.”

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “One, you're a Quidditch player, Al. Why would you be in the Ministry’s library? It'll look suspicious. Second, you'd need some serious clearance. That could take months.”

Albus didn't have months, he needed this _now._ He was trying hard to not lose his temper. “You are so  _fucking_ useless,” he snapped, failing his attempt.  Albus slid from the booth and left the restaurant. Harry hesitated before following him with a sigh.

He stepped outside, looking to see where his son had gone. He continued back down the street when Albus grabbed him from around a corner and he pushed him up against the wall. Harry went to ask what the hell was wrong with him, but Al held a finger to his lips. Albus peered around the corner and pulled his wand. The man left, looking around. Harry pulled his own wand, understanding. The man came their way, and Albus grabbed him, pulling him back into the ally and throwing him against the dumpster.

“Why are you tailing me?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

Albus stepped closer, pointing his wand at his face. The man held up a hand.

Harry kept a step back, his own wand still pointed.

“Wolf Mother is suspicious of your dealings, Potter. She wanted me to keep an eye on you. And look what I get to tell her when I get back. Meeting with daddy, _again_.”

“What makes you think you're going back? Like I'm just gonna let you walk outta here?” Al asked, and Harry’s head snapped over at him.

The man’s eyes got wide. Albus pointed his wand at him. “ _Avada Kedavra.”_ A flash of green light illuminated the alley, and the man slumped over.

Harry looked over at his son, Hellhound or not, Al had just killed a man in cold blood and without hesitation. He could feel the tightness rising in his chest again, but he pushed it down.

“Really, Al? You're making it really hard _not_ to arrest you, you know.”

“And he would have been killed anyway. She would have known I met with you.” Albus had a point. “Besides, if you arrest me then you'll have a son in jail and dead daughter and I think that's all our end goal here,” Albus bit back.

Concern fell over Harry's face. “What do you mean Lily would be dead?”

“She knows, and if I don't get her what she wants, Lily will be killed. That's why I need in the Ministry libraries.”

Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to punch his son for getting them in this spot in the first place. “Tomorrow, 9 o'clock. I'll leave an apparation spot open for you.” He muttered. “But I cannot promise your safety if you are caught.”

* * *

**Chapter 13 - The Devil You Know  
** _February 14th, 2033_

Scorpius and Rhys did not take very well to having to break into the Ministry. Scorpius, in particular, really didn’t want to break in.

Then Albus called him a pussy and it nipped that in the bud.

The boys were silent as they got ready. Albus buckled the leather armor into place, and pulled on his gloves. Rhys cracked his neck.

“You all sure you want to come?”

“You just called me a pussy and you’re asking if I’m having second thoughts?” Scorpius asked, and Albus turned back around giving him a look.

“Fair point,” Al responded, lifting his sleeve and checking his watch. “We have one minute.”

“Does anyone need to take a piss before we leave?” Scorpius asked, putting on his mask. “You know, I was thinking. I work for the Ministry. I could have just gone in…”

Albus busied himself with his mask to keep from turning around and strangling his best friend.

“…Taken you with me…” Scorpius drawled on.

“Except that would have taken months for me to get clearance…” Albus responded.

“…Gone in by myself…”

“It’s time!” Rhys chimed in, reminding the other two that they weren’t here to bicker. They disapparated with a pop.

The Ministry was completely dark at this time of night. The only sound that could be heard was from the fountain in front of them. Rhys adjusted the backpack over his shoulders - their plan was to steal as many relevant books as they could. They wouldn’t have time to sit and read in the library for hours. They would need to act fast and with reason.

“Lead the way,” Albus said, holding out his hand for Scorpius. Scorpius moved past him, and lead them to the elevators, where they slid open with the press of the button.

Scorpius pressed the button for the Library, and the cool female voice echoed. Albus checked his watch. “Find anything with her crest on it,” he reminded them. “Or anything you think is relevant.”

“We know,” Scorpius said.

“You’ve told us six times,” Rhys agreed.

Albus ignored them, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He knew they were making jokes to keep the situation light, try and keep him distracted from his own mind. Lily was in danger. The whole reason why he was doing what he was doing was to keep her and the rest safe. He supposed, though, that it had been a pipe dream anyways. He glanced up to see where they were in the Ministry. He felt this was an impossible task - they hadn’t even found Merlin’s wand yet and there were historians and scholars searching. People dedicated their _lives_ to this.

He was _just_ a Quidditch player.

She _knew_ he would fail.

His hand tightened around his wand, and the cool female voice announced their arrival to the correct floor. The doors opened and a janitor stared at them. Albus raised his wand, “ _stupefy_!” There was a flash of red light and the janitor was blasted off his feet and thrown backwards. The three men stepped around him, heading down the corridor. Albus raised his wand, using a nonverbal spell to light it. Wand light bounced off of the walls and they came to the door.

Rhys pushed it open, looking back at the two of them. It was already open. “Be cautious,” he warned.

Albus ignored him, taking off in a jog down the aisles until he found what he was looking for. He came to a stop at the _M’_ s, finding ‘Merlin’ first, and began to pull books. Rhys and Scorpius finally caught up, Rhys put his hands on his knees, breathing hard.

“You know,” he started. “Some of us aren’t fit like you.”

“Open the bag,” Albus ordered, a full stack of ancient books in his arms. Rhys glared from under his mask, pulling the bag off his shoulders and opening it. Albus set them inside gently, Scorpius joining him from the Morgana section.

Something caught Albus’ eye from around the corner, “I’ll be right back,” he put down another book in the bag and held up his wand. Rhys looked back at Scorpius, who shrugged.

Albus turned the corner, seeing flash of blonde hair and a smear of blue. She cast a patronus - she was alerting the aurors. Albus swore inwardly, running down the hall after her, he turned a corner to cut her off, and gabbed her arm as she skidded into him. She let out an involuntary yelp. She was the intern from his father’s office, no doubt someone had given her a job and she was staying late to try and get it done.

“Please,” she muttered, looking up at him.

“Tell me why I should be sympathetic to someone I just saw contact the aurors?”

“I… I don’t know…” her voice was shaking. Albus threw her back on the ground, his wand pointed at her. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t torture her. He lowered his wand.

“Get out,” he told her. “This is your warning, get out. If I see you in here again, I won’t be so kind,” she nodded, standing up and scrambling to get away. He turned away himself, jogging back down towards his two friends.

He grabbed the end of the book shelf to stop himself. “We need to go, Aurors are on their way,” he informed them. Rhys dropped the last book in the bag, zipped it, and cast a lightning charm. He hoisted the bag over his shoulder.

“So someone was in here?” Scorpius asked, running next to Albus.

“Yeah, she sent patronus, they’re on their way. Where are the stairs?”

“This way,” Scorpius said, turning the corner and opening a metal door. They headed up, Albus taking two steps at a time. He had no patience for an elevator. They would need to make it towards an apparation point before the aurors closed it.  

“Once we get towards the point, split up. We’ll meet back at my place tomorrow,” he told them and they burst through the maintenance door and into the lobby. Six or so Aurors stood waiting for them, they had met with the intern. Albus could spot Teddy’s bright blue hair, and Hugo’s red. His father was guiding them to an attack plan.

They all turned and looked at the three Hellhounds. Albus began to cast spells, throwing them at the aurors. Harry and Al made eye contact and Harry gave a tiny twitch of his head, letting Al know that the apparation point was still open.

Hugo occupied Scorpius, throwing as many spells as he could at him to keep him from advancing forward. Rhys had just taken out an older man, and was now running towards the apparation spot, where he turned and disappeared with a pop.

Scorpius continued to block whatever Hugo cast at him, and he managed to throw a few back - mostly ranging in stunners. He wasn’t about to kill a future brother-in-law.

Albus was cornered by Teddy and Harry, attempting to block as many spells as possible, dodging others. Al was confused, if Harry was supposed to be helping him, why was he backing him into a corner like a trapped animal? He dodged one spell, using another to blast Harry back and into the black marble behind him, knocking him unconscious.

Teddy looked back, allowing Albus the distraction he needed to take off in a sprint towards the apparation point, Scorpius was already there, and turned disappearing with a pop.

A spell hit him and he stumbled, tripping. There was an extremely sharp pain in his side - like a dagger had been drug along. Teddy had grazed him with some sort of a spell, he clenched at his side and raised a hand to look. Blood covered it.

He picked himself back, making it towards the point and disapparated with a crack.

He didn’t really think about where he was going, just that he needed help.

Al popped into existence outside of a modest house in the rain, and pulled off his mask, when the door opened and Nora Nott stared at him with her arms crossed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me, everyone! 
> 
> All chapters from here on out basically take place over a few weeks instead of a few months - also for funsies: I got Albus' salary from NBA players and then converted it to galleons, if anyone was wondering.


	8. Every Other Freckle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus gets helped by Nora, and gets too sassy with the wrong person.

**14 - Every Other Freckle  
** _February 15th, 2033.  
_ _2:30 AM_

Rain pummeled the windows of the small cottage. It was close to midnight, but Nora was still up, reading a book. It was a romance novel, she had been staring at the same page for the last half-hour.

She couldn't focus. Too many things going through her head. Her fiancé was out of town - in Paris for business. She looked down at the ring on her finger, adjusting it slightly with a sigh.

The distinct pop of apparation broke the monotony of rain drops.

She got up, practically throwing her book to the ground when she heard it. Nora hurried to the door, pulling it open. She had expected her brother, instead she got an egotistical Quidditch player, holding his mask in his hands. She leaned up against the doorframe and crossed her arms.

"Don't worry," Al told her. "Rhys is safe."

Nora knew she was being rude by keeping him in the rain. She looked down at him. He was clenching his side, and blood seeped through his fingers. She debated on sending him away - but she knew he would have nowhere to go.

She didn't want him to bleed out.

Their last row had left them both silent towards each other. As the war grew, and Albus had spent more time with the others, they had in turn spent more time together. They didn't get along. He was mean, and selfish... but there was something about him. Something deeper in his core. She wondered what it would be like to get him alone and pick his brain. This might be her chance.

He looked at her with pleading eyes. "Fine. Upstairs to your left. There's a bathroom. Get undressed and get into the shower. I'm going to go get my Dittany."

Al nodded and headed upstairs, finding the bathroom. He began to undress, peeling the leather away from his wound. It was stuck with sticky blood that had began to dry and clot. He let out a breath and got the rest of it off, he laid the rest of his clothes and his wand on the counter and started the shower as she instructed. He left his underwear on.

"Get in," she told him. She did a once over on his body, knowing few got this pleasure, and Hogwarts girls dreamed of it. No doubt a lot of them had that magazine cover taped inside of their notebooks.

He did as he was told, standing in the shower. She put on her gloves, and grabbed the bottle of alcohol. "I'm out of Dittany. Gonna have to do this the muggle way." She grabbed his shoulder and forced him to sit down in the tub. She switched the water from the shower, and poured some of the bottle on his cut. He hissed, and she went in next with her fingers to make sure there was no foreign debris.

That made him rise out of the tub. "Excuse me!" He snapped, and she shoved him back down.

"If you want my help, this is how it goes," she snapped, and began to stitch him up.

* * *

She had made them a pot of tea, and both sat around the kitchen island. He warmed his hands on the cup. There was a lot of things unsaid between the two of them, a lot of things went ignored - and probably for too long.

He was too dangerous, she told herself. He had a temper, he was impulsive. But she watched him. He looked tired, worn down. Leading duel lives tended to do that. He was so different from the Albus that she remembered in school. He had a twinkle behind those green eyes back then. She got up, putting her tea cup in the sink. "It's late, I have a shift tomorrow. You can stay if you'd like. The spare bedroom is up the stairs to the left." She walked passed him.

"Where's Finch?" He asked, blunt. The most he had spoken since he got there.

" _Caleb_ ," she corrected. "Is in Paris on business."

"Do you love him?"

"Excuse me?" Nora whipped around, furious. Blue eyes met green. "I am engaged, of course I love him!"

Al stood up, he was so much taller than her. He ran his thumb under her jaw. "Just checking," he walked past her, his tone suggested he didn't believe her. His touch gave her shivers. Caleb's touch didn't give her shivers.

* * *

A thunderstorm was rolling through the small village, a particularly loud crack of thunder had made Albus jump awake. He turned over gingerly, his side ached.

He heard the door open, and the covers pull up on the other side of the bed and a body slide in. He turned back over, she was facing him. He reached up, cupping her head in his hand. She reached over, kissing him. He rolled her over so she was straddling him. His hands rested on her hips. She broke apart, sitting upright. Lighting illuminated the room as she took off her top. She felt him twitch under her, under his underwear.

Al rolled her over so he was on top of her, he kissed her again, moving to her neck, and down her chest. He kissed her stomach as he pulled off her panties, she gave a light moan. He looked up at her and she nodded, giving him the go ahead.

He lifted up her folds with his thumb, and went down. She tasted sweet, his tongue dipping in and out, his thumb rubbing her clit.

She gasped, her hands finding his hair. She was close, and she didn't want it to end. She pulled him up, bringing his mouth to his. She heard stories from a Healing Assistant but... she just chocked it up to over exaggerating. She kissed him, tasting herself on him. She reached down, pushing off his boxer briefs. He got the hint, and grabbed his cock, and pushed himself inside of her. He gave a soft grunt, and she let out a breath.

She only ever had sex with Caleb, and it wasn't good. One sided. Stark. She knew she wasn't his first or even second, but the care he took with her.

He moved his arm under her head, and kissed her neck. She ran her nails over his back, grabbing at his shoulder blades. He kissed her neck. He reached down with his other arm and began to rub her. Each thrust was like fire in her belly. "Oh, Merlin," she whispered.

She came with a gasp, grasping at his shoulders. Her legs shook and she clenched around him, it didn't take him very long after that. He paused for a moment, his forehead touching hers. They looked at each other, covered in sweat and breathing hard.

He pulled out, rolling back over on his back. She curled up next to him, resting her head on his chest. They fell asleep, both easily for a long time.

The storm had passed.

* * *

Sun shone through the blinds, and a bird screaming woke Albus up. His arm was asleep, he moved gingerly, both for his side and Nora sleeping next to him.

He got up, finding his underwear and pulled them on. He went to the bathroom and took a piss. His hand rested on the wall, and he groaned. He was hung over from lack of sleep the night before, despite sleeping well. He grabbed his clothes from the bathroom, using a quick scourging charm and _reparo_ to fix up his armor. His goal was to leave before she got up. He wanted to stay, he wanted to make her breakfast and stay all day. But she was engaged, and he was dangerous. And it would never work out.

Plus his mark had started to burn.

He pulled on his pants and his undershirt, then his boots, leaving his armor draped over his arm.

Al left the bathroom, turning the corner and looking at the sleeping figure in the other room. He sighed, heading down the stairs and into the kitchen to leave a note before he left.

_XO,  
_ _ASP_

* * *

**15 - Broken Crown  
** _February 15th, 2033_

Morgan's house was practically a mansion. A little smaller than the Malfoy's, and tucked back behind a large pond - away from prying eyes.

Creatures roamed the property. Morgan had always been obsessed with magical creatures and using them to her advantage, often times breeding them illegally.

Albus apparated outside of the house, swaying a bit. His hand clutched his side, it ached horribly. He made his way up the stairs and knocked on the wooden doors. An elf opened up, dressed in an old tea towel and looking half starved. She bowed deeply, allowing Albus to pass her. “Mistress is in the library,” she squeaked.

Al knocked on the door before opening it, revealing Morgan sitting at a table with more books strewn around beside her. A wolf looked up from the corner of the room - she was nursing a litter of very black puppies.

Morgan looked up when he entered, standing. She walked towards him, a fire in her eyes. She slapped him, her claw-like nails leaving small cuts on his cheek. He looked back up at her, his jaw clenched.

“You  _broke_ into the _Ministry_?” Her voice was shaking with anger, waving the  _Prophet_ in his face. 

“You gave me a mission,” he told her, his voice was just as firm and he stared down at her. He wasn’t going to be intimidated anymore.

“Not to break into the Ministry and steal.”

“You gave me no choice.”

“ _No choice_?” She hissed, slapping him again.

“I have to find your fucking staff or else you’re going to kill my sister, I think that’s a pretty good suggestion that I had no choice.”

Morgan went to slap him again and he grabbed her wrist. “You brought light to what we’re doing,” she hissed, yanking her hand from his grasp. “They know we are after something Arthurian. No doubt they will be trying to find it just as fast.”

“Oh, and how am I supposed to find it then? Wander around Britain and hope to Merlin I stumble across her grave? They have a thousand years of useful transcripts there, I can’t just waltz in asking for the section on Arthurian legend. Might look a little suspicious considering what I do _for a living._ ”

Morgan’s eyes grew dark. “May I remind you who you are talking to?” She snapped. He had a point, he was just doing what he was told, and that made her angrier.

“Oh, I know _perfectly_ well who —“

She pulled her wand, finished with his attitude. She pointed it at him.

“ _CRUCIO_!” She cried, and he went down to his hands and knees, trying not to scream as thousands of white hot knives plunged themselves into his body. He could feel his stitches opening on his side, blood began to drip.

“You are on thin ice, Potter. You’ve practically broken through. I also want to remind you that we are above muggles!  _Crucio_!” Another wave of pain hit him. “If I hear one more thing about you doing things the muggle way, then _I’ll destroy you_.”

Albus looked up at her, glaring, sweat dripped from his forehead. “Weren’t you going to do that, anyways?” He asked, sucking in air through his teeth.

She squatted down in front of him. “You had so much promise,” she put her wand under his chin and pulled it up to look at him. “You were one of my most trusted followers, I was going to make you second-in-command. I even _liked_ you. So handsome, with that strong jaw and those green eyes that held so much passion. You’re lucky I need you. You’re lucky you’re so efficient. But remember that I own you, you are my _slave_.”

But to make you remember, you will lead an attack on Ottery St. Catchpole tomorrow. Leave nothing behind. Kill _everyone_ ,” Morgan stood back up, and backed away, letting him pick himself up. “Filthy muggles will know where they stand, and if I hear of you meeting with your father, I will make sure your grandparents will pay the price. Bring Malfoy and Nott to remind them where they stand as well, I know they’ve been helping you. Are we clear, Potter?”

“Crystal,” he growled.

“Carry on finding my staff, I want it soon. Oh and Potter,” she snapped. “Remember, you’re on a time crunch. I know where your sister is at any given moment. A simple touch of my mark will bring her to me.”

“Fuck you.” He left, slamming the door behind him.

She lifted the sleeve of her dress, pressing the mark. She sat back on her desk, pouring herself a glass of wine, waiting.

It didn’t take long for a large man to come bursting through the door, holding a red headed girl by her hair. He threw her on the floor. “Lily,” she said, taking a sip and then setting it back down on the table, and squatted in front of her.  “How wonderful of you to join us. You just missed your brother, though, he was rather rude. Which is why I’ve invited you here today. Maybe together we can teach him some manners. How does that sound?”

Lily spit in her face.

Morgan used her sleeve to wipe it away. “Seems to run in the family,” and she slapped the girl.


	9. You Rascal You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus meets with his brother, and researches things.

**16 - You Rascal You  
** _February 15th, 2033  
_ _4:45 PM_

The muggle woman peered over her glasses at the two men standing in front of her.

"Absolutely not," she snapped for what seemed like the third time.

Albus was standing in front of her. His hand clenched tightly around his wand, he held it close to his side, trying to conceal it from others the best he could. Rhys hovered near him, using his own body to help hide it. The woman wasn't taking to the Imperius curse like Rhys and Al had hoped - she apparently had more of a strong will than either of them thought.

Their research from the books they had stolen from the Ministry ended them up here - at the Bodleian Libraries, attempting to gain access to their medieval texts. The problem was that they didn't have cards, and even if they did have cards it would have taken more time to get approval to be able to access what they needed.

They didn't have the time to wait, so they had decided to just skip the proper procedures and make her give them what they wanted.

It wasn’t working. Apparently saying they had to do research on something they couldn't disclose was not a satisfactory answer as to why they needed into their Medieval collection.

"Get out of my library," she snapped. "Before I call the authorities.”

Albus left with a groan, holding open the door for Rhys and the two of them stepped out onto the steps in front of the Bod.

Rhys and Albus looked at each other.  "Plan B," Albus said.

"Plan B," Rhys echoed. “What… what is plan B?”

“Bribery,” Albus nodded, heading back towards their apparation point just outside of the University.

“Bribery…” Rhys mouthed, thinking it over for a moment before following him. “Uh, wait, Al?” He caught up, keeping pace with him.

“She can’t even be Imperio’d, what makes you think she can be bribed?”

“You need to be more perceptive. She had a bill on her desk that was overdue - electric or something. Everyone needs money, everyone likes money. ‘What would I do if I got a million galleons,’”

“Probably buy a new house,” Rhys responded. Albus gave him a look - it had been a rhetorical question.

“So, I’m giving her one hundred thousand British pounds. We’ll see where that gets us, meet me back here just before closing tonight,” he turned on the spot and disapparated.

Rhys stood in the cold for a moment, nodding. “Bribery,” he muttered to himself.  “What laws have we broken this week, I wonder?” He rolled his eyes, disapparating back to his house.

* * *

“I tried to stop him, but…” James’ receptionist frowned, as Al pushed passed her and into the office.

James glared at him, after what had happened at Christmas, he had refused to see him - telling his receptionist that if he came, to turn him away. Make up some excuse, like he was out, or something. Al used to stop by the bank at least once a month to bother him, but not since Christmas. His Uncle had gone too far, sure, but Albus nearly beat the man to unconsciousness and the last time he saw Uncle Ron he still had bruises.

James was a simple man. He got up, went to work - a cushy job in the top levels of Gringotts, ate the same lunch everyday (turkey on wheat with mustard, lettuce and two tomatoes), went home, ate dinner, played with his kids and went to bed (he had sex with Sarah on Tuesdays and Thursdays). He liked his routine, and he liked his schedule. James didn’t take risks. Al was a walking risk.

He studied his brother, he looked rough. He looked exhausted, dark circles lined his eyes. Three cuts on his cheek - they looked fresh. He noticed he was favoring his right side. Despite looking like shit, he still was extremely handsome. Deep set green eyes and long black hair, strong jaw covered with a beard. He was fit, too. James had a beer gut, receding red hair, and could barely grow a beard that didn’t look like pubes. They were completely different.

Al showing up instantly gave him a headache, pulsing right above his right eye.

“Hey there, big bro,” Albus dropped himself in the chair across from James. He smelled like smoke, which bothered his nose. “See you were trying to keep me out. Not speaking to me, are we?”

James’ receptionist stood in the doorway still, and Al turned around. “Thanks, love,” and winked.

“You can’t… you can’t just dismiss my own receptionist…” James snapped, and the girl stood there, unsure what to do in this situation. There was a moment of hesitation where they stared at each other. “…You’re dismissed,” he said weakly.

She left, closing the door behind her.

“What do you want?”

Albus crossed his leg over his knee, leaning back comfortably in the chair. “Say hi.”

“ _No,_ what do you _really want_? You don’t just walk in here without wanting something, you haven’t shown your face in two months. You’re a _Hellhound_ , for Merlin’s sake. Mum’s still in a right state, mind you. I have every right not to talk to you - how do I know you’re not here to kill me?”

Al looked at his brother, and raised an eyebrow. Nobody actually told him what was going on, apparently. He was the only Potter who didn’t know.

“And do what, assume your title as…” Albus looked around the office. “What do you even do here?”

“ _What do you want_?”

“I need one hundred thousand British pounds.”

“ _What_ ? Al… _why_?”

“I can’t tell you, just know that it’s important.” Al sat forward, suddenly serious. He pushed his hair off his forehead. “James, things are extremely complicated right now.”

“You’re a Hellhound, don’t think that’s so complicated. I actually should have you arrested.”

Al’s eyes grew dark.

“Spare me your judgements and just give me the fucking money. Just know that I wouldn’t be asking for it, if it wasn’t important. There are things you don’t understand.”

James looked at him, his jaw clenched. “Fine, but I don’t want to see you ever again, you will not come to any of my kid’s birthday parties, you will not come to see me at work, if holidays are a thing again, you will not speak to me. When this is all said and done, I pray that you don’t end up in Azkaban, or worse,” he wrote a note on a piece of paper, and tapped it with his wand. The paper folded itself into a mouse and he sent it scurrying along a tube.

They sat in silence, Albus was staring at a point in the wall behind James. The time it took for the goblins to bring Al his money felt like forever, and the tension in the air was palpable.

Finally, the goblin came through with the bag of money and set it on James’ desk with a sneer. “I am not an errand boy.”

“You should be proud of your status. Shouldn’t even be allowed to own property, honestly. Filthy halfling.” Albus snapped at the goblin, who glared at him as he left. He was at least going to try and keep up appearances.

“Racist _prick_. You have your money, are you happy now?” James asked, as Albus stood up, grabbing the bag. It took him a lot not to curse his brother.

“Kindly go  _fuck_ a dragon, oh and tell Dad that Ottery St. Catchpole is lovely this time of year, won’t you?” Albus slammed the door behind him, James winced.

He missed his brother.

* * *

 **17 - Prophet Story  
** _February 15th, 2033  
_ _6:45PM._

Rhys was waiting outside of the library, his jacket wrapped around himself. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet trying to stay warm in the cold.

Albus appeared in front of him, breathing heavily like he had been jogging from their apparation spot. He held up the bag of money.

“Got it,” he said and Rhys nodded. Together they headed up to the library doors. The librarian looked up, about to tell them they they were closing when she sighed - recognizing the two from earlier in the day.

“You two again?” She snapped.

“Yeah,” Albus confirmed. He dropped the money on the desk. “Let us in and you get this,” he opened the bag revealing the stacks of muggle money. “We only want a few hours. One hundred thousand British pounds, and it’s yours.”

She stared at it, and then stared at the two of them. They must have been desperate to drop this amount of money to be let into their archives. She considered it for a moment. “Fine,” she said, finally. “I’ll let you in.”

Albus and Rhys exchanged a glance and a smirk. She made them read the oath, and sign something. Muttering about how ‘Albus S. Potter,’ was not a real name, and the three went back towards the part of the library where the Medieval texts were kept - her hand firmly grasped on the bag of cash. She unlocked the door with her keycard, and let the boys in.

“I’ll be back in three hours to let you out,” she warned.

Albus gave her a nod of acknowledgement. “Plenty of time,” they pulled on their white gloves, opened their backpacks and retrieved their notebooks and research, spreading it out on the table and got to work.

* * *

Albus’ hand was in his hair, and he was focusing on a piece of Illuminated text in front of him. His hand was clenching his pencil, the point poised on his notebook, ready to write if need be. Though he hadn't exactly written anything in an hour. This was tedious, and long. They only had an hour left before the librarian came and kicked them out.

"Scholars are saying Avalon is in Glastonbury. Back then it was the essentially an island in a marsh," Rhys said, going through papers.

Albus threw down his pen and pushed his hair back on his head. "That doesn't seem right," he told him. "Nothing has been discovered to support the claim."

"Yeah well, twenty years ago they discovered King Richard the III under a muggle car park. I suppose anything is possible," Rhys pointed out. "There are plenty of things muggles have built over that are significant."

"My gut tells me no," Albus said, standing up to pace the room. He stretched and cracked his neck. "What if it was hidden by magic?"

"Wizards live in Glastonbury, if it was hidden by magic - like Hogwarts - then they would have found out."

"No, I mean. Avalon is supposed to be an island right?"

Rhys nodded slowly, wondering where Al was going with this. “I just said that.”

“Right, so. What if it’s somewhere in the Irish Sea?” He asked, sitting back down in his chair again. “Just hidden by magic.”

“An ancient witch and wizard hid an entire island…? Al, do you hear yourself speak sometimes? Like, I’m genuinely curious.”

“About half the time, but look,” he put a transcript and his notes in front of his friend. He had detailed out each transcript and text where he had found the word ‘boat’ corresponding with ‘Avalon.’ Rhys took the books from him, mouth opening a tiny bit.

Al sat back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smug look on his face. “So, I think it’s somewhere in the Irish Sea. Just the problem is finding where it is. The Irish Sea is pretty damn big.”

“It’s a start at least,” Rhys sighed, checking his watch as the Librarian unlocked the door and held it open for them.

“Time to go,” she said.

Al pushed all of his research into his backpack, while Rhys returned the transcripts they had been looking at. Al slung it over his shoulder, and the two of them left, heading towards the front of the building. They waited for her to catch up after shutting off the lights. 

“Thank you, again,” Rhys said, and Albus nodded in agreement.

“I really do appreciate it,” Al said, stepping out into the cold February air.

The Librarian gave a grunt and used her keys to lock the doors.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, mate,” Al sighed, their looming attack on the Muggle town was lurking at the back of the both of their minds. 

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

* * *

Albus opened the door to his flat, dropping his bag into the armchair. He kicked off his shoes, and head into the kitchen, a hand on the back of his neck. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, twisting the top off and taking a few large gulps.

He leaned against the counter, wondering to himself if they would get the staff in time. He made a mental note to pick up a map of the U.K. from the next shop on his way home from Quidditch practice tomorrow.

There was a tap on his kitchen window. He opened it, expecting it to be Ramses - who was out hunting. Instead, it was a smaller barn owl. It swooped in, dropped a letter on his kitchen floor, and swooped out. He set his beer down on the counter behind him and grabbed the letter.

He turned it over, the seal had a wolf on it. His stomach went to his throat. He broke the seal, and reached into the envelope, pulling out a picture with a note on the back.

 _Just a reminder.  
_ _-M_

 He turned the picture around. Lily was sitting in a dark room, her hands bound, a gag in her mouth. A cut on her forehead was bleeding. Her eyes were puffy - like she had been crying.

Morgan had her. Morgan had his sister. He grabbed the beer bottle from behind him and threw it at the wall with a yell.


	10. Blood On My Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus & Co attack Ottery St. Catchpole, then meets with Nora.

**20 - Blood On My Name  
** _February 16th, 2033  
_ _7:53 PM._

Ottery St. Catchpole was quiet this time of night, the residents of small village homes tucked away from the cold of the night. The village itself probably held no more than a couple hundred people, but the message of the seven Hellhounds that appeared that night was clear - there would be consequences.

Street lamps cast shadows on the Hounds and their masks. Their breath from the cold night air coming out of their muzzles, making them seem more monstrous than normal. Three bear-sized black wolves padded up next to the Hounds, their eyes glowed red, and a black fog rose in tendrils from their fur. One stepped up next to Albus, his gloved hand scratched behind the beast’s ears.

They were met with seven members of the Order, plus four more aurors, which meant that James had gotten the message to their father. Albus could make out at least his father, brother, at least one of his uncles, and a few other members in the dim light.

“Shit, they’ve got Grims,” he heard Harry say.

The Hounds were waiting on his orders. They were growing restless and uneasy.

“Burn them,” he ordered.

The street lit up with spells, and two of the Grims jumped for two of the aurors, immediately going for their throats. Their screams turning to gargles as blood began to flow from their necks and onto the cobblestone streets.

The Order members were trying to push the fight to the outskirts of town, away from the muggles and the center of town, and it was working. The wheat field was at the Hounds’ backs, leaving the Order to disapparate, only to apparate behind them, however the Order were backed up against buildings. Both were in bad spots.

Albus took out an Order member, blasting him back and into a wall and leaving him in a heap. One of the grims lunged at Harry, and he sent a stunner at it, knocking it out of the way. Al came up behind the hound, and shoved his father up against the wall, his wand pressed to his throat. They struggled against each other for a moment, more for show than anything else.

“She has Lily,” he muttered, shoving Harry up against the brick again, knocking the wind out of him. He coughed, unable to really process what Al was saying.

“Wait, what? She has… We gotta…”

“I’ve got it under control,” Al snapped, pushing him against the brick one more time. “Now punch me and make it look good.”

Harry hesitated a split second, before cocking back his fist, sucker punching him. He could feel the mask cutting his cheek and forehead, he dropped Harry and backed away. Blood began to drip down his face and into his neck. Harry disapparated and re-apparated a few feet away, throwing a spell at one of Al’s men, helping James out of a rough situation.

Al bent over, wiping blood from his eyes and looked up, seeing a Grim grab ahold of Ron’s arm. He pointed his wand at it, shouting the first spell that came to mind, red light shot from the tip, hitting the grim in the back. Ron looked up, holding his arm, to see who had saved him. Albus gave a slight nod, moving to dodge a spell that shot past him, looking for his friends. Scorpius was occupied with one of his cousins, though he couldn’t tell which, and Rhys was behind him, occupied with his Uncle George.

He pointed his wand to an Auror, who had cornered Scorpius with his cousin.

“ _Avada Kedavra_!” He yelled, and the spell hit the Auror in his back.

“You really are gone,” he heard his brother’s voice, standing behind him. Al turned around, wand hanging loosely in his fingertips at his side.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Al called back, and James threw a spell at him, which he blocked with ease.

Albus walked forward, and James threw another spell at him, which he blocked. “I suppose I have the moral obligation to stick by my family,” James snapped.

“I am not in the mood to _fuck_ with you right now,” Albus hissed.  

“Take off that mask, stop hiding.”

Albus hesitated, before reaching up and pulled off the wolf mask, revealing a face soaked with blood and a fire in his eyes. “I’ll destroy you, James,” he warned.

James put his wand into his pocket, and held out his arms. “Come fight me, then.”

Albus put his own wand in the holster on his thigh, and charged James. They collided, and Albus got the first hit in, though James met him with an uppercut to his jaw. Albus backed away, spitting blood and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That all you got, motherfucker?” Albus asked, holding up his fists and using a ‘come at me’ motion. James knew this was a bad idea, Al was in better shape than he was, but his adrenaline was on high.

“You shouldn’t talk about Mum like that,” James snapped, running and grabbing Al around the waist and shoving him up against a wall. Al punched his side to get him to let go. Finally, he clasped his hands together slamming them down on his brother’s back and his hands fell away with a grunt, allowing Al to get an opening. He punched him hard, and James returned the punch. Al could feel his own nose breaking. James had ahold of Al’s armor, trying to pull him closer, his foot connecting with the back of Al’s leg. Al’s elbow connected with James’ head and he backed off.

James came at him again, and Al blocked the flurry of punches with his forearms, getting another one in. James took a moment, and then punched Al in the solar plexus. Al coughed, the wind knocked out of him. The brothers looked at each other, and Al ran, grabbing him around the middle. He pushed him forward, picking him up and the two slammed into a car windshield, making the alarm go off. Al let go on impact, rolling off and hit the pavement. His brother doing the same. James groaned, holding his side. Al groaned as well, rolling over to his hands and knees.

Al picked himself up, grabbing his mask, and spit blood again. He stepped over to James, glaring down at him, “Don’t pick a fucking fist fight with me, bitch,” he snapped, and situated his mask on his face.

James groaned again.

Albus stood straight, one of the Hounds - Goyle - was standing a few feet in front of him. Goyle raised his wand, pointing it just over Al’s shoulder. He couldn’t hear what spell he said, but the arm movement… green exploded from the tip of his wand, but it didn’t hit Albus. Al followed the spell as it hit Rhys in the back and his best friend fell to his knees, his mouth open and head leaned back, like he had been stabbed in the back with a sword. He fell forward and hit the ground, eyes open and lifeless.

Albus turned his attention back towards Goyle, rage filling every crevice in his body. He reached down, grabbing the knife from his boot, and charged Goyle. Al hit him like a ton of bricks, the knife finding it’s way to his throat. Blood squirted out, splashing Al’s mask. He knew it was a message from her - he better keep himself in check, or more would die. 

He pulled his knife from the man’s throat, wiped it on his shirt, and shoved it back into his boot. The grims were dead, and so were most of the Hounds, the Order wasn’t faring much better.

He limped over to Rhys’ body and went to grab him, but he was met by Scorpius holding him back. “No, Al, come on.”

Al tried to fight him, but he had no energy left. He knew Scorpius was right, he couldn’t do anything for him. He looked up at his father, and their eyes met. Harry nodded, understanding exactly what Albus was asking.   
  
“Retreat!” Al yelled, “Retreat!”

What was left of the hounds disapparated, leaving the Order to pick up the mess.

* * *

Al and Scorpius met back at the Manor, going inside, where Draco met with the two of them in the foyer.   
  
Albus ripped off his mask, throwing it on a table. Scorpius sat down in a chair, pulling off his own mask and putting his head in his hands.   
  
Draco stared at the two boys, Al was considerably more bloody than his son, which wasn’t a surprise. But, there was something wrong with them - and they were missing a person.   
  
“Where’s Rhys?” He asked, cautiously.

Scorpius looked up at Draco and shook his head - Albus stalked past him and headed upstairs to clean up and get changed. Draco winced with the sound of the door slamming.   
  
Draco’s frown deepened and he sat down next to Scorpius and put a hand on his back. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I know what it feels like, losing a friend to the war. But, I don’t know what it’s like to fight in a war that I hand in starting. I know you three started this thing to protect the ones you love, knowing you may not make it out alive. You have to remember that Rhys knew that when he signed up. Y’know, while trying to protect the ones you love, you forgot to look out for each other. Don’t make the same mistake with Albus. You two need to stick together now, more than ever. Mourn Rhys. Cry for him. Fight for him. Finish this _for him._ ”

Scorpius nodded, taking in his father’s words as Albus came down the stairs. His face was washed, though it was still badly bruised and cut. He was in regular muggle clothing. 

“I gotta go tell Nora,” he sighed, pushing his hands into his pockets. “Scorp, you know the Notts… You should probably tell them.”  
  
Scorpius nodded. “Yeah, you’re right,” standing up and heading upstairs to change and wash his own face.

Draco sighed. “Come here, Al. Let me fix your face,” he stood and took his wand from his pocket and got to work.  

* * *

**21 - Set the World on Fire  
** _February 17th, 2033  
_ _Midnight_

“That’s good,” Nora said with a smile, taking the empty potion cup from the six year old, who still looked feverish. The boy laid back in bed, and she pulled the covers up. “You’ll feel better soon,” she promised, cupping his hand in his cheek. The boy nodded, and hugged his stuffed phoenix. His parents were nearby, looking tired and worried. Nora had done everything she could to make the boy at the very least comfortable, while they waited to transfer him to a muggle hospital - they were better equipped for leukemia.

The boy’s face lit up instantly, looking out the window behind her shoulder. “You know Albus Potter?” he asked, his voice full of hope he would get to meet his hero.

She looked up, seeing Albus in the window, his hands in his pockets. He had two large cuts on his cheek and forehead, his cheeks were black and blue, and there was a large yellow and black bruise on his jaw. He was trying to be stoic, but his eyes had given it away - something was wrong. She furrowed her brow, standing up from the edge of the bed. “I’ll be back to check later, okay? I’ll even see if he’ll come and say hi, maybe tomorrow?” She grinned at them and headed towards the door.

“Al, what’s up?” She asked, trying to hide her own worry - and hurt. Al had left her the morning after she had patched him up without a word - well, that wasn’t entirely true, he left a note. She supposed he knew what he was doing, distancing himself. She had a Caleb, after all, though that relationship wasn’t going well - she had been distant since that night. Albus was dangerous, he wasn’t a good person. 

“Rhys is…” He swallowed, trying to decide how to best go about this. “Rhys is gone.”

The words seemed far away when he spoke them, and it took a few moments for the weight of his words to finally sink in. She backed up against the wall, scooting down to sit against it, her hand went to her mouth. She could feel her tears, wet and hot running down her face and into her robes. Albus kneeled in front of her, and she collapsed into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, strong and comforting. His hand went to the back of her head.  “I’m so sorry, Nora,” he whispered, his own voice wavering.

She felt like they sat there for ages before he pulled her up, her tears had stained through his shirt. He had his arm around her shoulder, leading her somewhere. Nora’s thoughts went briefly to her parents, how she should be with them, but all she wanted right now was to be with Al. Somehow, she knew he needed her too.

They got outside of the hospital, and he kept a strong arm around her and they apparated to outside of his apartment. He unlocked the door and lead her inside and sat her down on the couch, and disappeared into the bedroom. He came back out, handing her a change of clothes, his own shirt changed. “I’m going to start some tea,” he announced, but she ignored him.

Nora went into the bathroom and closed the door. She stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, and her makeup was smeared, mascara was running down her face in black streaks. She turned on the water, splashing it on her face, and put a hand on her forehead. Tears had formed again, and she splashed more water on her face. She grabbed the hand towel, letting a sob out into it.

She slowly changed from her robes and into the oversized t-shirt and sweats he had given her. Nora took a few deep breaths, wiping her face again, and went back to the living room.

Albus met her with a cup of tea and the two of them sat down on the couch. She let out another sob, and he wrapped his arms around her. She rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes. She listened to his heartbeat, and timed her breathing with the rise and fall of his chest.

“We should get you to your parents,” he said, his voice echoing in his chest. 

“No, I want to be with _you_.”

She closed her eyes again, tears slipping out. She tried to time her breathing with his again. Eventually, Nora fell asleep.

* * *

She unlocked the door to her parents’ manor the next morning, and headed inside. Al followed behind her, a duffle bag in his hand - he dropped it by the door. Nora knew she would be staying with her parents for at least a few days, while funeral arrangements were made, so they had stopped by her house to grab a few things.

“Oh, thank Merlin.” Caleb had rounded the corner, hurrying and wrapping his arms around her. Theo and Pansy had followed along behind him. She stood there, not hugging back. Caleb let her go, and Albus took her hand.

“Hey, I’m gonna go,” he whispered, squeezing it. “Give you all some time,” he nodded to the Notts and dropped her hand, the other one going to the door knob.

Nora shook her head. “No,” she protested, catching his hand again. He had been there with her the entire night. She had woken up in his bed while he slept on the couch. Rhys was his best friend. He had every right to be there.

Caleb huffed, getting impatient. “Come on, let him leave Nora.”

Rhys had never liked Caleb, and had told her so on several occasions. She never listened, but she saw what he saw now. A man who was pretending to grieve while sucking up to her parents. Rhys always knew best, always had her best interests at heart. She knew he wouldn’t tell her to not marry someone if he didn’t mean it. She was going to go with his advice.

Nora looked down, taking off her engagement ring and handing it to Caleb. “No, you leave,” she told him.

Caleb went to protest, opening his mouth, and then closing it once Albus stepped up behind her, arms crossed and glaring. Their hands slipped together. He turned around, looking towards Theo and Pansy to say she was being unreasonable. Theo had stepped up too, hands on his hips, and the threat of two very powerful wizards was too much. He left the house.

Nora let go of Al’s hand and wrapped her arms around her father’s neck, burying her head in his chest. Pansy wrapped her arms around the two of them and they cried.

  
  
  



	11. Me and Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus meets with family and friends. The boys explore a cave.

**22 - Me and Mine  
** _ February 18th, 2033 _

Four men and three women sat in the library of the Nott manor in silence. Albus was standing in front of the fire, one of his hands on the mantelpiece, the other hand held the paper, and he stared into the flames. Scorpius was sitting in an armchair, Rose sitting on the arm of the chair, his head resting on his head. Theo and Draco occupied a couch, Theo was leaning forward, with his forearms resting on his knees and his hands clasped together. Draco was sitting back, his leg crossed over his knee. Nora was sitting on the other couch, next to her mother.

They were waiting on one more.

Nora set her cup of tea and saucer together, and stood from her spot on the sofa. She stepped over the family dog, and came up next to Albus. She put a hand on his arm and brought him out of his thoughts.

“Albus,” she whispered. “Look at me.”

He tore his eyes away from the fire to look at her, and she couldn’t help but frown. He was looking more and more worse for wear these days. The war, and the death of his friend was written all over his face. The bruises from his fight with his brother had started to fade. She gently pulled the paper from his hands and looked at it. There was an attack on Hogsmeade the night before, and an attack on London the same day. The storm was finally here, and it was getting worse day by day.

She threw the paper into the fire. “Stop,” she looked up at him. “Stop beating yourself up, you’re doing the best you can.”

He let out a sigh and pulled her into his arms. She wrapped her own arms around him, fingers grasping at the fabric of his shirt. He kissed the top of her head.

“I’m not beatin’ myself up,” he muttered into her hair.

“Liar,” she whispered, pulling away from him as Harry came into the room, hesitating a little.

Pansy stood, setting her own teacup down on the table. “Nora, come along,” she held out her hand. “Let’s leave the men to their discussions.”

“No, Mum. Rose is staying, and I’m staying too,” Nora shook her head as Al took a seat in the spot Pansy just vacated. Pansy gave her daughter a look before leaving the room. Nora sat down on the floor, leaning up against Al’s legs. She reached behind her, and squeezed his calf. Al’s hand slipped into hers.

Harry raised an eyebrow and sat down next to his son. He leaned over, “Nora Nott, again?” He whispered in his son’s ear.

“Relatively new development,” Al smiled.

“Ah.” Harry nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. His son had found light in the darkness. Someone to keep him from falling over the edge. But what Al said the other night still rested at the back of his mind. Morgan had Lily.

“So, what the  _ hell _ is going on?” Theo finally asked, looking between Scorpius and Albus. Theo knew of the boys’ plan. He knew that they knew it was risky. He knew that Rhys had been the one to come up with it, despite Al being portrayed as more of the ringleader. But, his son was dead.

“You wanna go first, or should I?” Al asked, looking over to Scorpius.

“You, definitely you.”

“She knows, first off. What we are,” Albus started. “She know’s what we’re doing, and she’s most likely squeezing every little bit she can out of us before she kills us. Rhys and Lily are warnings… messages. She’s not someone to be messed around with. She will kill her own, if they stand in her way.”

“You said she has Lily?” Harry asked, brow furrowing.

Al nodded and reached into his coat pocket, pulling the picture she sent him the few nights prior and tossed it on the table. Harry picked it up and turned it over to look at the note on the back.

“The problem is, if we storm her manor, then Lily will most likely die,” Al said, nipping that plan that Harry had in the bud very quickly.

“To save all of our skins, we’ve been searching for Avalon - for Morgana’s tomb. She wants Morgana’s staff,” Scorpius chimed in, looking over at his father. “Because she threatened Rose too.”

Rose looked back at Scorpius, worry crossing her face. Scorpius had made sure she didn’t leave his side.

Al looked up, surprised. Scorpius hadn’t mentioned anything like that to him. He must have not wanted to stress Al out anymore than he already was. The stakes were high, and they were rising every minute Al sat on his ass and did nothing. His hand clenched into a fist, and Draco sat upright, uncrossing his legs.

“How far have you gotten into your research?” Draco asked quickly, trying to distract Albus from an outburst.

“Well, we think Avalon is an island in the Irish Sea,” Al started. “Just where in the Irish Sea is the big question. And it’s well mapped,” he said.

“So, how can an island just go missing for a thousand years?” Nora asked, looking up at him.

“It’s hidden by very powerful, very old magic,” Scorpius said, and Al nodded in agreement. “So, that’s what we’re hung up on. We can’t just comb and entire sea and hope to find it before Lily and Rose get into even more danger.”

Theo sighed, thinking, and stood up going to one of his shelves to find a book he was looking for.

Harry was staring at the picture, he hadn’t spoken or made any sort of acknowledgement towards the conversation. His little girl was imprisoned, hurting, and he couldn’t do anything to save her. Anger seeped into his body. His son was responsible, the man that had gotten up and was digging around in his bag for something. His son and his need for attention, his martyrdom.

Harry let his rage get the best of him, and he leaped up, grabbing Al’s shirt and shoving him against the bookcase so hard, it rattled.

“You have put everyone in danger around you. Your best friend is dead, your sister has been kidnapped by your boss. All because you had to go and be a martyr.” Harry snapped, pushing him against the case again. He could feel Draco’s, Scorpius’, and Nora’s wands points at his back. They were saying something, but he didn’t hear.

“I know,” Albus said, hurt lacing his voice. “I’m a bad person, and I ruined lives, but I’m doing my best to fix it, dad. I don’t regret the things I’ve done, and will do, because how can I regret saving you all? But, I’m trying to fix this. Let me fix it, before you go off on one of your plans.”

Harry let go of his son’s shirt, and Draco stepped in front of Al, his wand still drawn. Albus stared at his father, it seemed like every time he stepped into a room with even one of his family members, he was getting into a fight with them.

“If you two are quite done,” Theo said, looking rather annoyed, he had a book open in his hands. Draco stored away his wand and gave Harry a warning look. “We have a job to do, and you’ll need a curse breaker.”

Theo came around and set the book down on the table. A drawing of a castle on a cliff laid on the page and Albus stepped over to it, his fingers running down the page. “I still think we need to go to Tintagel.”

“Bless you,” said Scorpius.

Albus sighed and looked up at him. “Isn’t that where Arthur was suppose to have been born? We’re looking for where he died.”

“Probably,” Theo said. “But there are caves under Tintagel, something could hold a clue there, something Muggles couldn’t see… the caves are underwater except for certain times of the day. One is specifically called ‘Merlin’s Cave.’”

“Mister Nott is right,” Scorpius said.

“Theo,” he was corrected. “Call me Theo.”

“Fine, Theo is right, we need to go to Tintagel to see if there’s some sort of a direction. Combing the entire Irish Sea will take time we don’t have,” Scorpius pointed out, putting his hands into his jacket pockets.

“You need all the time you can get,” Harry chimed in weakly.

“Fine. Let’s go to Tintagel. I suppose it can’t hurt,” Albus huffed, getting impatient. He looked down at the drawing in the book again.

“We’ll leave in fifteen minutes,” Theo said, and left to go upstairs to change. Draco busied himself telling Scorpius to be safe, and Scorpius made sure that Rose would not leave Draco’s side, despite her protests of being a big girl and being able to handle herself.

Harry cleared is throat, and looked over at his son. “Sorry, for that outburst — I didn’t…”

“I’m doing my fucking best,” Albus snapped, interrupting him. “I’ll send word when we get the staff,” dismissing his father. Harry hesitated before leaving, Scorpius and Draco had both left with Draco clasping Al on the back. That left just Nora and Al in the room.

Nora nodded, licking her lips. “Be safe,” she told him. “I can’t handle losing you too.”

“I will,” Al nodded, pulling on his jacket.

Nora halfheartedly smiled, “I need you to promise me,” she said.

He picked up his wand, pushing it into the waistband of his pants. He put his hand under her chin and brought her lips to his in a kiss. 

“I promise.” 

* * *

**23 - Wild Sun  
** _ February 18th, 2033  
_ _ Later that day. _

The ocean lapped the edges of cliffs, a storm was approaching from the west, the clouds were growing darker as they approached. Albus had on a windbreaker, his hood was up against the wind and the cold.

Tintagel sat on the coastline in Cornwall, the ruins looking over the cliff dated back to the 13th century, though the location had been known to date back to Roman times. But, the three men weren’t interested in the castle ruins. They were busy climbing down the boulders, trying to hurry before the tide rose high enough to fill the caves with water.

“The story is that this is where Merlin pulled Arthur from the waves,” Theo called, he was behind the two boys, and increasingly growing out of breath.

Al stepped down onto the beach, looking up at the face of Merlin carved into the rock. A little bit of pride swelled in his chest, knowing they shared the same house. He looked back at Scorpius and Theo who joined him on the beach. They went inside the cave, and Al pulled out his wand and ignited the tip of it. Scorpius did the same. Their wand light cast shadows on the cavern walls.

“We don’t have very long,” Al said, looking at his watch. The tide would rise and fill the cavern with water. He was getting impatient, and it was starting to wear on Theo’s nerves. This kid was dating his daughter.

Theo nodded, his hands running along the far side of the wall. His fingers trying to find every nook and cranny he could. Find if there was something hidden. Albus was on the other side, his hands also trying to find something, waves licked at the entrance of the cave.

Scorpius kept his wand held high, casting as much light as he could, until something caught his eye. A very back corner of the cave, something flashed red as his wand light hit a certain point. He furrowed his brow, and moved towards it, holding his wand out to cast more light on where he was going, and forgetting the other two.

“Ugh, Scorp. Mate, need light.” Albus groaned, he had extinguished his own wand to help Theo search the walls. He looked up and over at his friend, who was running his own hand against the wall. Albus joined him, Scorpius running his finger over a crudely carved apple, hidden away in the stone. Most likely, it wasn’t meant for Muggle eyes - so it was hidden, much like their marks were. Theo joined the other two and Scorpius shrugged, tapping the stone with the tip of his wand.

The top of the stone melted away, revealing a chamber - deep enough to not see the bottom, but small enough for a hand. One of them would stick their hand down in it, and hope to Merlin nothing was laying dormant for 1000 years ready to bite. Scorpius looked at his friends, before plunging his hand into it. It immediately went up to his elbow, before he pulled out an ornately decorated gold apple. Scorpius wiped his hand across the surface, revealing the crest of Morgana - the ruler of Avalon.

"Well fuck me up a tree," Albus said, breaking the silence, and Scorpius and Theo turned to look at him. "You were right."

“Of course I’m right,” Theo snapped, watching as Scorpius ran his fingers over the a seam in the apple.

"It's not solid." Scorpius said, and reached up, twisting the stem of the apple until it clicked, and the apple fell open like it had been cut. A small golden, shimmering, apparition of a man on a horse carrying Morgana's banner galloped around the edge of the apple. Words began to appear as he galloped. 

_ “Look towards the golden apple when it touches the Sea, from Caernarfon you’ll be,” _ it read.  _ “For true conquest awaits for those who can survive it’s tricks.” _

“This whole adventure thing is going to be full of dumb puzzles, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” Scorpius said, closing the apple. He opened his backpack, and carefully set the apple inside. “We need to leave, though. Get to Wales as fast as we can. We need to figure out a way to get to the island, and the —“

He was interrupted by Al groaning. The water had risen to their feet now, and they were starting to sink in the sand. “My Adidas,” Al whined.

“You can complain later,” Theo said, hurrying out of the cave and onto the beach. He began to climb the boulders back up to the edge of the cliffs.

“You know, we could just apparate from here,” Al called, his hands in his jacket pockets. Theo nodded, Al did have a point.

“Your laziness astounds me,” Scorpius said, jumping back down towards the others. He gave a little involuntary gasp. The water had risen, and Scorpius had forgotten how cold it was. “Let’s go then.”

“Wait, we should make a pitstop by my flat,” Albus said.

“Weren’t you the one complaining about time constraints?” Theo asked.

“We need brooms. To get across the Sea. We can’t physically fly and a boat, while effective, certainly wouldn’t be fast enough. See you there.” He grinned, and disapparated with a pop.

* * *

They stood on the edge of the coast, Albus and Scorpius had changed into their armor - Albus was busy clasping his cloak around his shoulders and pulling up his hood.

Theo was sitting on a nearby rock, watching the sun grow closer to the horizon. It had taken them all of three seconds to realize that ‘golden apple’ meant sun.  

“And now we wait,” Scorpius said, sitting down on the rock next to Theodore. Three broomsticks laid up against another rock.

Al stood staring at the sun, his arms crossed. He was so close to saving his sister, but the real fight was just now licking the surface. This mess would end soon, and somewhere in the back of Al’s mind, he knew he wouldn’t make it out alive.

Two weeks ago, he would have been fine with it. But now, he had things to fight for - things to  _ live  _ for. So, come hell or high water, he was going to  _ live. _


	12. Renegades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus & Co finally make it to Avalon.

**24 - Renegades  
** _ February 18th, 2033  
_ _ Sun down.  _

Al sat back on a rock as the sun grew nearer to the horizon, painting the sky in golds, oranges, and reds. A pizza box lay empty on the beach, as well as a six pack of beer. Scorpius vanished both. 

Theo stood up, grabbed one of the brooms. “We’ll see it any minute, now,” he said. Albus stood up from the rock, grabbing his own broom and handed the last one to Scorpius.

“These are all professional, and go rather fast,” Albus warned. “Please be careful with them. They cost more than your house.” He was protective over his brooms, and even had a little bit of a vintage broom collection going, he recently acquired one from the 1950s. 

Scorpius sighed, “Don’t worry mate, we know how to fly brooms.” 

“Look,” Al pointed, ignoring him. The sun touched the water and a flash of light made them shield their eyes. On the horizon, much like a mirage on a hot day, they could see the island. It wavered, before blinking out of existence, but that was all they needed… they just needed the general location. Theo speculated once it was seen, they could gain access. Albus hoped that was true, he had no interest on hovering above the sea while they tried every revealing charm they could. He wanted to get in and get out as fast as he could. 

He mounted his broom, kicking off into a hover. The others following, he knew he’d be leading the flight. “Ready?” He called back to them, watching as Theo wobbled a bit. He was gonna loose a broom. 

He he leaned forward and took off, flying low towards the sea. While the others kept farther up and kept their speed lower.

Albus loved flying. Being in the air allowed him to forget, it was why he loved Quidditch so much. He could get lost in the match. The strategy, the plays. He put his heart and soul into the game, and not many realized how serious he was until they got onto the pitch with him. When they did drafts, Al was extremely tough, and most didn’t realize how intense he could actually be. Though, most of the players on his team, when asked how it was having Albus Potter be your Captain answered: “difficult, really, really difficult.”

Albus ducked low to the water, running his fingertips across the surface before pulling up and joining the other two. He let go of the broomstick with his hands, and outstretched his arms, letting the air run through his fingers, fully enjoying himself. Something he hadn’t had the chance to do in awhile, he even broke out into a grin. In the air it allowed him to forget about the death of his best friend, his sister's life being in danger, saving the world. 

Avalon appeared before them, water crashing up on the high cliffs. Albus landed on the grass, and two others following shortly behind him. The island was filled with apple trees, overgrown and seemingly thriving. Above them, sitting on the cliff was the castle ruins. Overgrown and unkempt, but the majority of it still intact. 

"Come on," Al said, hurrying up the overgrown pathway. It was weird, most likely nobody had been up this cobble road in over a thousand years. Probably since the death of Arthur. Now they were the first to do it. 

Albus kept firm grip on his broom, when there was a roar that was very close to them. 

"Did you hear that?" 

“Something tells me this isn’t going to be a nice stroll through the orchard,” Theo said, pulling his wand. 

The trees in front of them splintered, showering them with leaves and wood. Al put up his hands to shield himself, and he felt something large chomp on it. Chewing on his broom was a large dragon with dark, rough looking scales and ridges along it’s back. It’s tail was tipped in an arrow shaped spike, and had brilliant purple eyes. 

Albus ducked as the dragon dropped what was left of his broom and blew fire, engulfing the surrounding trees in flame. Al took off running towards the coastline. Under the castle on the beach, he had seen multiple caves. He knew running through the forest to get into the castle would most likely be pointless, they would need to get to cover as fast as possible. 

“Follow me! Go to the coast!” He yelled to the others, ducking again as the dragon took a swipe at his head. Theo and Scorpius followed Al, casting spells haphazardly behind themselves as they ran, trying to slow down the dragon. 

The dragon roared, blowing more fire at them, trying to get at his meal - he was getting frustrated. He took off into the air in flight. Albus paused and looked towards the sky, breathing hard. Theo grabbed his arm, pulling him off towards the coast. They jogged down to the cliffs. Scorpius jumped off and onto the beach. Theo hesitated for a moment, not exactly a fan of jumping  from any height. Albus brushed past him, jumping off himself. Theo took a deep breath and jumped. They could see the caves. Albus and Scorpius took off in a dead sprint.

The dragon landed in front of him with a deafening roar and the three skidded to a halt. Albus adjusted the grip on his wand, and shot some spells his way, trying to distract him. The dragon reared up as a particularly nasty stinging hex hit him in the chest. He threw his tail around, and the sharp spike on the end caught Scorpius’ arm, throwing him backwards. 

_ “Incarcerous!” _ Theo yelled, and thick ropes wrapped themselves around the jaw of the dragon. Albus took the hint, and did the same, the ropes wrapping around the dragon’s legs, bringing him down with a crash. Al ran to Scorpius, pulling him up. “Come on, hurry. That’s not going to hold him for long.”

Scorpius wrapped his arm around Al’s neck, and they hurried towards the caves. The dragon roared, shaking the bindings from himself. The three backed into the cave, and the dragon tried to fit. He reached in, trying to grab at them. The men backed in farther, and finally the dragon pulled out of the cave and flew off. 

“Holy mother fucking shit,” Albus gasped, and then began to cough. “I need to stop smoking.” He said between coughs. He worked out every morning he could, and usually ran, though his smoking habit was apparently catching up with him. 

“It’s disgusting,” Scorpius said, illuminating his wand tip and looked around the cave. It went farther back. He was ignoring the bleeding cut on his arm. “My guess is we’re right below the castle, I bet we can get through to the crypt from here.”

Albus lit his own wand, holding it up as they walked deeper into the cave. 

* * *

The tunnels of the cave eventually opened up into a bigger chamber. An underground spring cut through the middle of the cavern. A bridge allowed for easy crossing - though it was rather shallow. The torches that had hung on the wall had burned out a long time ago. Skeletons lay abandoned in the middle of the floor, their armor still on, hands still clutching shields and swords.

Al stepped over one of the skeletons, lowering his wand and casting the light over it. “Merlin,” he muttered. “Apparently there was a fight.” 

Theo nodded, pointing his wand at the touches on the wall, and lighting them as they moved forwards. “This must have been the servant’s quarters down here,” Theo pondered out loud as they moved into more of a defined room that had shelving, a fireplace, as well as chairs and other things. “Look, the cauldron was still on the fire when everyone left. They were probably cooking something.”

“Well, we need to find her staff, not her last meal,” Al snapped, getting impatient with how long both Scorpius and Theo were taking at getting to where they needed to go. 

Scorpius gave him a dirty look. “Chill the fuck out, would you? We just discovered something major in both Wizarding and Muggle history, take some time to appreciate it.”

Albus whipped around, his face in Scorpius’. “I’ll appreciate it when my sister isn’t being tortured,” he growled. 

“Stop acting like you're is the only one that this has affected!” 

Albus grabbed Scorpius’ armor and shoved him up against the wall, and Scorpius shoved him off.

“What, gonna beat me up like you did your uncle? Get mad because someone hurt your feelings?” He mocked, "come on, let's fight." Albus cocked back his fist.

“BOYS!” Theo yelled pushing himself between the two of them.

Al let go of Scorpius, who straightened himself. Al pushed his hair back off of his forehead and used the hair tie around his wrist to tie it back. Both were fuming. 

“This place is turning you two against each other. It happens all the time in places like this, to keep whatever they have locked away in here safe. You can’t find what’s in here if you kill each other. I expect there to be a lot of fun trickery like this. Be mindful, and for the love of Merlin,  _ don’t kill each other,”  _ Theo warned, heading off to the servant’s bedrooms and going down a flight of stairs to the dungeons. 

Albus and Scorpius looked at each other before heading up the stairs, Al keeping his distance just incase Scorpius decided to strangle him.

They stepped onto the landing, nearly running into Theo. “Don’t move,” he whispered to them. “And don’t look into it’s eyes.”

“What?” Scorpius asked, looking over at him as a giant snake slithered past. “Nevermind.”

* * *

**25 - Glitter & Gold   
** _ February 19th, 2033 _

The Basilisk’s tail disappeared back into the dark. The room was silent, he looked over at Scorpius, who was holding his wand out. His eyes were wide, trying to see as best as he could in the light.

“A giant fucking deathsnake,” Al groaned. “Wonderful, just fuckin’ fantastic. Really, how I wanted to spend my day. Fighting monsters Hagrid would get wet dreams over.”

“I’m going to light the torches and the fireplace, illuminate your wands, let’s try and blind it,” Theo whispered, ignoring Albus. “On the count of three. One… two… three…”

Albus and Scorpius illuminated their wands, and Theo lit the torches and the fireplace. They finally were able to get a better look at the snake, as it reared it’s head at the sudden light. It’s scales were a bright green in color, though neither of them really paid attention to it’s head. It hissed and waved it’s head around, trying to get used to the light. 

“Al, stay here in the middle, I’m going to go left, Scorpius you go right. We'll confuse it, and remember not to look it in the eyes." Theo turned and hurried off the other way, trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible. Scorpius did as he was told. 

The beast stop shaking his head, it's eyes focusing down on the man in front of him. Albus was trying to recall in his head what Hagrid said about the beast as it lunged at him and he stepped  aside.

Scorpius cast a spell at it and yelled. It flung his head back over to Scorpius, distracted. The spell rebounded off of it's hide. "It's hide can protect itself from spells!" Theo yelled. 

Albus looked down, reaching to a skeleton and pulled a sword from it's grip. He tucked his wand back into the holster at his thigh. He weighed the sword in his hands, getting used to the feel. 

The king snake was busy trying to get ahold of Scorpius, who was dancing around the edge of the room trying to avoid both it's gaze and it's mouth. Albus bent down, scooping up a chunk of stone that had wedged it's way out of the floor some time ago, and chucked it at the Basilisk's head. 

"Go, run to the crypts! I'll distract it," Al called, using his hand to wave the two of them off. Scorpius and Theo glanced at each other before hurrying off. 

Albus twisted his sword around in his hand, before grasping it with his other, and he settled down in a stance. The snake opened it’s mouth, fangs glistening as it slithered towards him. Sword connected with snake hide, and it cut deep, still sharp after over a thousand years.

The basilisk let out a scream, and Al pulled his sword out as it  lunged at him again, hitting it’s head against the iron of a cell, bending the bars. Albus ran, trying to get around it from behind. It was surprisingly fast for it’s size, and Al was starting to slow down. Fighting a dragon and a basilisk in one day was starting to wear on him. His armor felt heavy, he hadn’t slept more than 3 hours in the past 24. The snake crashed through a column, showering Al with stone and debris. He covered his head, still trying to outrun it and get behind it.

The basilisk lunged again, snagging his cloak, it’s fangs tearing at it. Al slipped on the damp stone and went down hard on his elbow. “Fucking shit,” he groaned, the basilisk reared it’s head, ready to strike, it’s mouth open. Al pulled his wand, and shot whichever spell came to mind first - apparently a stinging hex. It screamed again, and Albus pulled himself up, stowing his wand again. He grabbed the sword, and jumped on the back of the beast, scaling to the head. It bucked and weaved, trying to get him off. His hand found the snake’s nostrils and he hung on, shoving the sword down through the top of it’s head. It screamed again, and Al pulled the sword out of the snake’s skull.

It went down with crash, breathing labored. He hopped off the head of the animal, and buried the sword into it’s neck, pulled it out, and then did it again, severing the head from body.

Albus looked down at his work.  _ “The only good snake is a dead snake,”  _ his father once said as he used a shovel to behead an adder they found in their backyard when Al was probably nine or ten. His father had never liked snakes, always avoiding the herpetology house at the zoo, always killed them whenever he saw them - even if they weren’t dangerous. Al briefly wondered if that saying went beyond the reptile.

He shook himself from his thoughts, heading into the crypt, sword still in hand. He found his friends staring at a door with three iron beams across it.

“You killed it?” Scorpius asked, eyeing his friend. Once again, Al was covered in blood. At least it wasn’t a human’s this time.  Albus nodded.

“Your dad killed one when he was 12, if I remember right,” Theo said, studying something written in Old English on one of the beams.

“I’m still holding a sword,” Al responded, sitting down against a wall and closing his eyes, grateful to have a moment where something wasn’t chasing him. He rubbed at the elbow he had fallen on earlier - it was most likely cracked, if not broken. Adrenaline had kicked in, and now he was crashing. His whole body ached.

“Magic won’t unlock this door,” Scorpius informed Al, he was sitting across from him. His blonde hair sticking to his forehead in a sweat. A cut was starting to clot on his cheek. “Theo’s working on the puzzle now.”

Theo stood up, and took a few steps back, looking at the door and the hallway in full. He pointed his wand to a statue of an owl, stone ground together as it moved, taking flight. It landed on a branch above the door and the first beam unlocked. He pointed his wand towards the stone dragon next to Al, and it took flight as well, landing next to the owl and the third beam slid aside - leaving the middle beam.

“My guess is that there will be a few curses behind these doors. I wouldn’t rush in,” he warned them offhandedly, looking back at the Old English again.

The third bit was what was catching him up. He stood back and looked at it. “The owl for Merlin, the dragon for Arthur…” He thought out loud, pacing back and forth.

Al stood up, and crossed the hall to Scorpius, sitting down. He left the sword on the floor where he had been sitting. “Sorry about earlier, mate,” Al sighed.

“Nah, don’t be.”

“No, I should be. You’re right, I’ve been acting like this whole thing has affected just me. It’s affected all of us. I’ve been a selfish prick.”

“You’ve always been a selfish prick, mate,” Scorpius grinned over at him. “It’s just a matter of knowing when to call you out on it.”

“I appreciate that,” Albus said with a laugh. Scorpius clapped a hand on his back, before pulling it away and looking at his gloved hand with a bit of disgust. Sticky blood covered it and he wiped his hand back on Al’s shoulder.

“Why are you always covered in blood?”

“I ask myself the same question.”

The third beam on the door slid open, and Theo stepped away looking proud of himself. Beyond the door was the crypt. It was pitch black, and an heavy mist hung in the air. Theo began to mutter counter curses and cast them into the room. They were met by an invisible barrier, which began to melt away.

Albus and Scorpius stood up, looking at each other.

“Something’s in there,” Scorpius said, illuminating the tip of his wand to try and cast his light inside. It didn’t penetrate.

“Whatever it is, it’s not as bad as a dragon or a basilisk,” Al responding, brandishing his own wand.

Theo took the first step forward, and his breath hung in front of him in a cloud.

“Dementors.”


	13. You're A Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dementors bring out Al's worst memory.

**26 - You’re a Wolf  
** _February 19th, 2033_

Theo quickly took a few steps backwards, two dementors floated out of the dark mist, eager to enjoy their new meal. They had been starving.

Ice crawled up the walls and spiderwebbed over the floor as they floated closer towards them, their rotting hands outstretched towards them. Their breath hung in the air in front of them, and Al could feel his chest restricting. The one closest to him grabbed his throat and pushed him up against the wall.

Every happy moment and memory Al had seemed to be sucked from him, dread and despair swallowing him. He couldn’t remember kissing Nora, or hugging Lily. He couldn’t remember getting drunk on the floor of his flat with her. He couldn’t remember Draco buying him a new broom when he made Quidditch Captain, he couldn’t remember when he told him how proud he was.

Instead, the dementor dug up something far worse. The memory he had buried deep inside and didn’t care to remember or visit.

* * *

 _July 17th, 2021  
_ _6:30 AM_

Walls of cobblestone surrounded either side of the street, houses and shops elevated above him. The sun had finally started to rise over the horizon. Al’s feet hit the ground as he ran, thankful the house was just another mile and a half away. He wanted to get out to the field as soon as possible, before it started to get too hot to bare, it was why he started his run before the sun had risen.

Al had been up early almost every day of the break, starting out with a run and finishing in the field behind the house - practicing. Oftentimes, he didn’t come inside until it was dinner time. The only time he took off was if he was with either Scorpius or Rhys or both. Every once and awhile though, his mother would come out with him to toss the Quaffle around, or Lily would come and watch.

The stairs were the worst part of his run, but he didn’t hesitate as he took two at a time. He pushed himself forward, knowing he could go farther and harder. He crested the stairs, not allowing himself a break as he cut left around the corner and ran down the walking path and into the woods that surrounded their small town. He crossed a bridge over a small creek, his mind elsewhere and not paying attention to the path in front of him. He tripped over a bag in the middle of the walkway, going down hard on his hands and knees. He pulled himself up into a sitting position and wiped gravel and dirt from the already bleeding scraped on his knees and the palms of his hands.

Out of nowhere swooped an older homeless woman, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him up to standing. She clearly had dropped her bag in the middle of the path, most likely just as Albus was about to cross it.

“WATCH OUT BOY! My babies are in there!” She screeched, Albus pushed her claw-like hands off of him and took a few steps back. “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, BOY! Dangerous boy! Wolf in sheep’s clothing. Dangerous. Bad, bad, bad.” She eyed him, picking up the bag Al had tripped over and continued to mutter. Al hurried away in a jog, looking back behind his shoulder at her. His heart pounding in his chest.

He took a shortcut, cutting across a dirt path that lead him to the street his family lived on. Blood ran down his legs with each step, getting onto his shoes. He slowed down to a jog once he could see the house. He turned into the driveway, slowing to a walk, and headed towards the back yard. He hopped the fence, and went in through the back door and into the kitchen.

Harry jumped, his hand going to his wand sitting on the kitchen counter and he looked behind his own shoulder from his paper to see his son. “Oh, goodness, Al. Gave me a scare.” He looked up at the clock on the wall above them. “I didn’t know you were awake - I didn’t even hear you leave the house.” He was still in his pajamas, reading over The Prophet.

Al grunted in response, turning on the water. He grabbed a paper towel from the roll besides the sink, and began to clean the blood from his legs. He ran his hands under the water and swore under his breath as it stung.

Harry frowned, standing up. “What the hell happened?” He asked, grabbing the first aid kit from above the fridge.

Al picked out another piece of gravel from his hands. “I went for a run and tripped on this old homeless lady’s bag she dropped in the middle of the path over in the woods that way.” He gestured in a general direction as Harry poured some wound cleaning potion on a paper towel.

“I’ve got it,” Al told him, taking it from him and dabbed at his knees. He sucked in air as it began to smoke. He poured the potion over the palms of his hands. Harry busied himself getting bandages ready.

“She freaked me out though,” He said, taking the bandages Harry had ready and put them on his knees.

“How so?”

“She grabbed me, yelled at me to stay out of her house and that I was dangerous. She said I was bad and a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

Harry’s brow furrowed, looking down at his son who seemed more disturbed about the incident than he cared to admit. “You’re not bad, Al. You’re only dangerous on that Quidditch Pitch,” He offered him a small smile and sat back down at the table.

Al threw away his trash and grabbed a bowl, milk, cereal, spoon and one of his lactate pills - he was lactose intolerant. Ron had spent most of his life making fun of Al about it. Ginny had come into the kitchen by that point, and looked over her now bandaged up son.

“What happened?” She asked. Harry and Al shared a glance.

“He tripped,” Harry said simply, turning the page of the paper. Al dropped down in the seat next to Harry, and poured his milk over his cereal. He tore open the pill package and took it with the first bite.

He nodded in agreement, chewing and swallowing. “Yeah, some old bag left her crap all over the trail.”

She eyed the two of them, knowing she wasn’t getting the full story from either of them.

“In any case, your O.W.L.s should come today,” she announced, pouring herself a mug of coffee.

 _“Joy.”_ Al responded sarcastically, standing up with his empty bowl and put into the sink. He put away the milk and the cereal.

“I’m sure you did fine,” Harry said, putting down the paper and turning to look at his son. “We’ll be happy to have you on our team.”

Al hid a grimace, he never wanted to be an Auror. It had always been his father’s dream for him, ever since he had expressed interest in Defense Against the Dark Arts his first year. It wasn’t until this year, when he made Quidditch Captain of the Slytherin team that he wanted to do it professionally. He had lead his team to win the Cup. He was naturally good at strategy, and enjoyed coming up with plays. When he had met with Slughorn to discuss his future going forward, he had been happy to give him a number of his contacts he had collected in his Slug Club over the years. Al didn’t need to get shining O.W.L.s - he just needed to impress the scouts.

“It’s natural to be nervous,” Ginny said with a knowing smile, sitting down with her cup across from Harry. She snatched the paper from her husband and began to read the front page.

Al shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t so much nervous about his results - he already knew that they would be bad. He was more worried about the reaction from his parents.

An owl appeared at the window as he was contemplating hiding at the Malfoy’s for the rest of the day. The bird tapped at the glass with his beak and Ginny gave a small squeak of excitement. Al got up and opened the window. It hopped in, holding out his leg. Al untied the thick parchment from his leg and it flew off back out the window. Al sat back down, breaking the seal on the envelope and pulled out the papers.

 _Albus S. Potter_  
_Astronomy: D_  
_Care of Magical Creatures: D_  
_Charms: E_  
_Defense Against the Dark Arts: O_  
_Divination: P_  
_Herbology: P_  
_History of Magic: T_  
_Potions: E_  
_Transfiguration: A_  
_Total O.W.L.s: 4_

“So, how’d you do?” Ginny asked as Al passed the results to Harry’s outstretched hand.

“Fine,” He answered as bluntly as possible. Harry read them over.

“Albus, what the hell? Only Four?”

Al shrugged.

A look of shock passed over his mother’s face and she reached for the parchment as though she didn’t believe what Harry had said. She read it, and looked over at him. _“Albus Severus!”_

Al shrugged again, “I'm not worried.”

“Not worried? You’re not worried?” Harry asked, his temper rising. “What exactly do you intend to do with only four O.W.L.s? You wanted to work at the Ministry. Now the only job you’ll be able to get is cleaning toilets.”

“No, _you_ wanted me to work at the Ministry,” Al said, looking over at him, getting combative.

“You could have done much better though, Albus. You’re smarter than this,” Ginny said, worry and disappointment warring in her face.

“What the hell were you even doing? I know Scorpius was probably studying, and so was Rhys? Why weren’t you with them?” Harry was doing his Auror thing now, treating Al like he was a suspect instead of his own son.

“I wasn’t -“

“You weren’t what?” Harry asked interrupting him. “You were probably with some girl, and here I thought you wanted to be an Auror.”

“No, _you_ wanted me to be an Auror.”

“I’m really disappointed in you, Al.” Harry scolded, and got up to pace. “You would have made such a good Auror. I mean the one outstanding you got was in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“What the fuck else is new?” Albus muttered.

“We would have put you into train— _excuse me?”_

Ginny sighed, knowing exactly what was coming. “Language,” she reminded him, knowing it was inevitable to keep the two of them from fighting. The least she could do was keep her son from throwing around expletives.

“You heard me,” Al said, glaring at Harry. “I said what the fuck else is new?”

“Watch. Your. Mouth.”

“Watch yours,” Albus responded, his voice low and dangerous.

“You’re grounded. Get your are up those stairs and start studying. You’re gonna at least retake Herbology, I don’t care about Divination.”

“No,” Albus said, standing his ground.

“What?” Harry asked his voice rising.

“I’m not going to, this is horse shit!”

“Why is this horse shit? I’m trying to help you. I just want to see you succeed!”

“Like hell you want me to succeed, you’re trying to turn me into you!” His own voice was rising.

“I’m just trying to make sure you don’t end up homeless in a ditch scrubbing toilets at the Ministry!”

Lily and James had come down the stairs now, woken by the raised voices. They peered into the kitchen. Harry and Al were now standing face-to-face, while Ginny was sitting at the table with her head in her hands.

“Merlin, _why do you keep thinking I want to work at the Ministry!?”_

“Then tell me, what in the holy hell do you want to do with four O.W.L.s?”

“I want to-“

“What is it?” Harry interrupted, impatient.

 _“Would you let me talk?_ I want to go pro with Quidditch.”

“And what’s going to happen when you don’t make the team? Your mother had a backup plan, so don’t bring her into this.”

Albus glared at him, not making a team was not an option. The scouts were starting to look this year, which meant they would be signing. Al was determined to have a contract by the beginning of his 7th year. One way or another, he was going to make it happen.

 _“Not an option,”_ Al said, crossing his arms.

“I’m really disappointed in you,” Harry repeated. “You can’t just put all your eggs in one basket! You know for being a Slytherin, you really do not have any ambition.”

“Again, what else is new?” Albus snapped. “And piss off, I am ambitious, why do you think I’m up at 5 every morning to go for a run, and then out in the field every day! Can you not _hear_ what I’m saying through your thick skull?”

“What the hell is your problem?” Harry asked, throwing the results back down at the table. Ginny picked them up to read over them again to distract herself.

Albus shrugged, leaning against the door frame, done with this conversation.

That set Harry off. “I’m so sick of your attitude! You don’t care about anything anymore. You’re so apathetic. You’ve been this way ever since you were sorted Slytherin!”

“There it is!” Al said with a laugh - though it wasn’t funny. “There it is, you prejudice _old shit._ You can’t look past old feelings. Maybe if you actually paid any attention, you’d see that we’re not all that bad. You don’t treat Roxanne like shit and she’s in Hufflepuff.”

“Hufflepuffs don’t grow up to be dark wizards. They don't make their fathers hate them." 

Both Ginny and Lily gasped. Tension hung in the air, surrounded by an awkward silence. Al’s face grew dark, and he stood up from the door frame. He stepped closer to Harry.

His voice was low, even, and cold. Something had snapped in him. “You _fucking watch me,_ I _will_ be signed to a Quidditch team by the beginning of 7th year, I _won’t_ become a dark wizard, and I _won’t_ scrub toilets. So you can _suck my fucking dick.”_

They stared at each other down, another few moments of tense silence.

 _“Get out,”_ Harry finally said pointed to the front door. “Get out of my house.”

* * *

The dementor’s mouth grew closer to his, and Al closed his eyes, preparing himself. Waiting for the kiss.

Only it didn’t come.

There was a flash of bright light as a python Patronus too it out. It came back around towards the other one. Al dropped to his hands and knees and threw up.

Scorpius was the only one that could cast a Patronus in the group. Why, Al had no idea, but he always knew that Scorpius was a much better person than him. He certainly knew how to calm Albus down from one of his outbursts, and he knew when to rip him a new one. He loved Rose with all of his heart and he wanted to do right by his family and his family name.

The fog lifted from the crypt as the dementors disappeared, off to find a new home. Scorpius helped Al stood, he was unsteady and pale. Theo was sitting down, his own face pale.

“I really wish we had some chocolate,” Scorpius sighed and ignited the top of his wand to cast light into the crypt. Three stone tombs stood in front of them. An owl, a raven, and a dragon guarded over them.

Al ignited the tip of his own wand, and moved into the crypt. He  held his wand over each of the tombs, looking for her sigil. He didn’t care about Merlin or Arthur - he wanted to get the staff and get the hell out of there as fast as he could. He wanted to get Lily, and go home and crawl into bed.

He found Morgana’s tomb and tried to push the heavy stone lid off. “I could use some help, you know!” He called back over his shoulder.

Scorpius had stepped into the tomb, glancing around at the artifacts. “You _do realize_ you are a wizard, and you have a wand right?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at his best friend.

“Right, yeah.” Al muttered, pointing his wand at the stone. “ _Bombarda_ ,” the lid cracked. He levitated the pieces away, and looked inside. All the research, breaking into the Ministry, battling a dragon, killing a basilisk - all of it lead to this moment.

And nothing was there.

The skeleton of Morgana laid out in front of him, clad in an elegant dress with a circlet on her forehead. Her hands were clasped over her chest in a position that might have suggested the staff was there at one point in time.

“It’s not here,” Albus said, reaching in and moving the skeleton around.

“Desecrating graves can now go on our list,” Scorpius sighed, looking over at Theo.

“I do this all the time.” Theo whispered back with a shrug.

“It’s not here," Al repeated, his voice raising into a panic. He turned back to the other two with wide eyes. His heart was pounding in his chest and he started to breathe hard.

_“It’s not here.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note: Al very much parallels Sirius - he goes and lives with the Malfoys for the rest of the summer and into the summer of his 7th year as well. He refuses to go home despite numerous apologies from his father. Obviously they began to fix their relationship, later on. Harry regrets what he said to Albus to this day.
> 
> Also 2/3 on that list Al gave him ain't bad. He could be scrubbing toilets.


	14. Nobody Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is war.

**27 - Nobody Speak  
** _February 19th, 2033_

“It’s not here,” Albus said with a laugh of disbelief. “The fucking thing isn’t here,” he turned around to face Scorpius, who was standing behind him with his arms crossed. Theodore was more interested in Merlin’s tomb.

“She knew we’d fail.” Al finally said, leaning back on the stone. He shook his head in disbelief at the situation. When she asked him to find the staff, she had no intention of letting Lily go, he realized. She could have been dead right now, for all he knew. He felt like he had been played - used. At least they could turn over the location to the Ministry when it was all said and done - if it was ever said and done.

Albus had originally joined Morgan to protect his family and friends. Now, one was dead, one was captured and being tortured - if not dead, and another was most likely next on her list. He felt like he had failed, and he didn’t like the feeling.

“I failed them, Scorp,” he sighed. “I failed everyone. Now, we’re sitting in the middle of the Irish Sea with no way to get Lily back. You know, I try and I just can’t win. And for the first time in my life, I want to give up.”

“Okay, first off. You can’t win? Says the man who got signed to a Professional Quidditch team at 17, who got signed with the National English team at 21, and made Captain of said team at 26. I can’t believe ‘I want to give up,’ just came out of your mouth. What the hell happened to the Albus Potter that wouldn’t take no for an answer? When his dad and his whole family said he couldn’t, he did?”

Albus went to open his mouth to retort.

“No, I’m not finished. You said we have no way to get Lily back? That’s bollocks and you know it. I’ve seen you take on two or more Aurors trained by your dad with no problem at all. Who the hell cares if we don’t have the staff or whatever she even wanted in the first place. Frankly, I’m surprised we’re standing here. I’m surprised at the first mention of threatening Lily you didn’t do whatever you do to kill people.”

Al nodded, taking in his words. Scorpius was right, this was a setback, sure. It wasn’t a reason to give up and let her destroy everything - that wasn’t in the cards. He stood up straighter.

“So, we go and get Lily back.”

“We go and get Lily back,” Scorpius agreed with a smile, putting his hand on Al’s shoulder. That

fire and spark was back in his eye. “You set out to prove something, so go and prove it.”

Al nodded, and turned around, looking back at the other set of stairs on the other side of the crypt. Most likely those lead up straight through the castle. He tucked his wand away in the holster on his thigh. He reached into the crypt, grabbing the circlet off of Morgana’s head. “At least, we can show her we tried.”

They climbed the stairs and headed through a hall and out a wooden door. The throne room was laid out in front of them. Two chairs sat on the far wall, and the morning sun poured through the stained glass, splashing vibrant colors on the floor and wall. At one time, it was most likely an extremely beautiful and intimidating place. Ripped and moth eaten tapestries hung on columns that lined the room, and Scorpius stepped to one that was mostly intact - the Lady of the Lake presenting Excalibur to Arthur.

“Y’know, strange women, lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government,” he sighed.

“And yet here we are, with a monarchy based on that very moment,” Theo replied over his shoulder, looking at the throne chairs.

Albus’ brow furrowed, and his hand went to his forearm. “Is your mark burning, Scorp?”

Scorpius turned and nodded to him, concern coming over his own face. She was calling for them, and most likely all of her followers. They would need to get back - luckily this time around they knew the location and could just apparate instead of fly. Something that both Scorpius and Theodore were thankful for.  
  
Albus pushed open the doors, crisp morning air greeted them. Grass crunched under their feet from the morning frost. He looked back out over at the sea, the circlet still clutched in his grasp.  
  
“I’ll take my leave,” Theo said, nodding to them.  
  
“Thank you, I don’t know how I’m going to ever repay you,” Al said with a smile. “You helped, a lot.”  
  
“It was my pleasure, Rhys… Rhys would have loved to see it. So, I’m seeing it for him,” Theo said with a smile and disapparated with a pop.  
  
“Let’s go see what she wants, and then get Lily back,” Scorpius said, putting his hands on his hips, and looked down at the shorter man next to him.  
  
Al nodded, biting his lip. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.” They started down the grass hill to the beach. “I never want to see another Basilisk again,” he said.  
  
Scorpius laughed, “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.”  
  
“Merlin help me, I hope so.”

The two of them apparated with a pop.

* * *

They apparated outside of the gates of the manor Morgan had been using as a base, along with around 200 other individual Hellhounds - with more coming. They were gathering around a large tree in one of the back gardens. Albus looked to his left as they walked up the path with the others. Eight kennels lined the back of the house, wizards were pushing meat through the grates, and they were met with gnashing jaws and breath frozen in a fog in front of them.

He and Scorpius pushed their way to the few rows up front, two men stood on either side of Morgan. She was dressed in leather armor - not unlike their own, just with more embellishment. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, and she made eye contact with Albus, her lip curled.

“I’ve called you here… because Harry Potter has put a bounty on my head,” She called, and held up the wanted poster. She held her wand to her throat to amplify her voice. “The Ministry thinks they have the power to stomp us out! To tell us we are evil, and that our views shouldn’t be upheld,” mutterings of agreement spread through the crowd.  
  
“They forced down Lord Voldemort,” she began to pace. “While, he was just obsessed with Potter and had no real goals… they took down Grindelwald. Third time’s the charm, as they say,” she said with a sickly sweet smile. “I’ve called you all here today, because as much as we’ve weakened the Wizarding World - they’ve still got one more stronghold. The Ministry,” she said, still pacing. 

“We take the Ministry, and others will fall,” she continued. “We’ll control the world. Muggles will be our slaves.” Cheers erupted around them, and both Albus and Scorpius had to force themselves to clap.

“Kill everyone in your path, have no mercy, go forth and release the Hounds.” The crowd dispersed. “Potter,” she said, pointing at Albus, taking her wand away from her throat.  
  
Albus nodded to Scorpius, who nodded back, and headed into the crowd to find a secluded corner to send a Patronus both to Harry and to his father. Albus made his way towards her, Morgana’s circlet still in his hand.  
  
“Did you find it?” She asked, crossing her arms.  
  
“No, but… I did bring you this. Her crown,” he held it out towards her, “as a sign of good faith, I’ll even show you the location of Avalon.”  
  
Morgan gently took the gold piece of jewelry from his hands, running her fingers over it. Sapphires inlaid into the metal. She put it on, and drew herself up, standing straight. She looked at the Potter in front of her. She backhanded him, her rings opening the cuts her nails had made a few days earlier.

“When I expect to have something, I expect to have that thing, not a consolation prize,” she snapped. “Get out of my sight and get to the Ministry,” she snapped, “I need all the men I can, if you survive the attack, we’ll discuss terms of your punishment later.”  
  
Albus wiped blood from his cheek and turned around, heading into a crowd that was getting ready to disapparate.  
  
“Get me his sister, we’ll make her execution a family affair at the Ministry.”

* * *

A silvery python slithered into Harry’s office just as he was hanging up his robes, he had just gotten in.    
  
“She’s coming,” Scorpius’ voice rang from the Patronus. “She’s going to attack the Ministry. The Hounds are on their way.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide and he took off in a sprint from his office to the Minister’s office. He took the stairs, taking them three at a time, and he burst into her office despite the protest from the secretary. Hermione was already in a meeting this morning - the Bulgarian Prime Minister was here on a visit.

“Morgan is coming with her Hounds,” he said, breathing hard. “They’re on their way. We need to start evacuations immediately.”

* * *

**28 - This Is War  
** _February 19th, 2033  
_ _8:30 AM_

They barely had time to start the evacuations when the Hounds came with their dogs. They took advantage of the apparition and floor points that stayed open to let those who had no desire, or couldn’t fight, out.

Morgan stepped out of the fireplace, and looked around. Blood had started to pool on the floors where her Grims had mauled people. She turned around, and a large man holding a bound, gagged, and very beaten up Lily Potter followed. Lily’s eyes went wide at the sight, and it took a lot not to puke against her gag. She pointed to three Hounds who had apparated in, and waved them over. “You three, go with him, and bring a Grim. Take our little song bird up to the Minister’s Office. Blockade them in until we’re ready.” The three men nodded and broke off, doing as they were told.

He jerked the girl along as she looked around desperately for her family, her eyes sweeping over black masks and crowds of aurors, aurors-in-training, Order members, and Ministry workers. She looked for Al’s mask, Scorpius’ mask. Anyone’s.

She looked at her escort, and couldn’t help but smirk to herself, they didn’t underestimate her family. They knew they would try and come and get her, they were preparing themselves. She was shoved into the elevator, and two hounds joined her. The other two and the Grim took the one next to it.

The elevator ride was silent, and she looked at the two of them. She could take two fully grown men without a wand, right? She aimed a kick at one of them and used her bound hands to hit the other. The bigger of the two grabbed her hair and yanked it back. “Careful,” he snapped. “Or I’ll be sure to tell the Wolf Mother to make your death as painful as possible.”

Tears leaked from the corner of Lily’s eyes as he let her go, and she shrunk back against the corner of the elevator. The cool female voice of the elevators announced they were at the Minister of Magic’s office. The doors slid open and the escort regrouped, the Grim running in front of them.

Two Aurors stood guard outside. Harry had managed to convince Hermione that the safest place for her was inside her office, keeping the Bulgarian Prime Minster safe - and if Hermione herself died, then the war would be over. Morgan and the Hounds would have won. So they sat in wait.

The two Aurors turned and brandished their wands, the Grim ran forward, tackling him to the ground and ripping out the man’s throat. While one of the Hounds took out the other Auror with a killing curse easily. They unlocked the door, and had blasted Hermione back against the wall faster than she could have grabbed her own wand. She fell against the floor, unconscious.

They shoved Lily in, and bound and gagged both Ministers - taking their wands. They closed and locked the door. Two Hounds sat inside on the desk, while the other two stood outside of the office - with the Grim pacing back and forth.

Lily scooted over to where her Aunt lay and pulled her head into her lap. She prayed for a miracle, for something, anything.

* * *

Albus apparated in, not looking forward to the fight or the bloodbath ahead of him. His elbow hurt, his ribs hurt every time he took a breath. He was already bleeding from that damn castle. The Hounds had begun to storm the Ministry, there were already bodies from both sides lying in the lobby.

Albus didn't intend to fight for the Hounds today. He didn't intend to fight for any one side. He fought for his own, for his family. If that meant taking out both Aurors and Hounds, than so be it. He pulled his wand from his holster and blocked a spell that a ministry worker threw at him. Al sent a spell back, and the worker hit a column, cracking the stone and falling to the ground in a heap.

He kept walking.

His main priority was finding Lily, he saw her briefly before they left. She was alive, and that was all that mattered. His second priority was finding Morgan - he would kill her with his bare hands if he had to.

By now, his family knew very well what his mask looked like. It was all black like the others, except two gold bars were painted on it.  They came out from the bottom of his right eye, going down the wolf’s cheek and to the bottom of the mask. Each one was different, each unique. It was how they told each other apart on the battlefield.  
  
He kept a tight grip on his wand, stopping for a moment to gather his bearings. He overheard Morgan talking about a public execution, and to bring the girl. He knew Lily was here somewhere, it was just finding her among the maze of offices and corridors.  
  
“I knew I should have expected to see you here,” a voice came.  
  
A man with blue hair distracted Albus from his thoughts. Teddy as good as a brother to the Potter kids, though he had grown closer to James, than the other two. He had already been out of Hogwarts by the time Albus and Lily had gotten there.  
  
“We were called to war, what am I supposed to do, not answer?” Albus asked with a shrug. “Be a deserter, and a traitor? I rather like my life, thank you very much.”  
  
“Fight for the right side, Albus.” Teddy pleaded

  
“You don’t even know what I fight for.”  
  
The two of them were circling each other, wands pointed at each other’s chests. Teddy had tried with Albus, he really did. The two of them just never connected, and Teddy had grown tired of Al’s unwillingness to reciprocate. Now they were staring each other down, and Teddy felt a pang of guiltiness.  
  
“I do, you wear that mask, that armor, and that mask because you believe in superiority. I know that you want Muggles to be our slaves. After everything Harry taught you, taught us about love and acceptance growing up… that’s what I was taught. What happened to you?”  
  
“I don’t believe any of that,” Al said, turning to face him fully. “Did Dad not tell you? You would have thought, _his little_ _protege._ ”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I’m a spy, Teddy. And I’d love to have a heart-to-heart, but I’ve got people counting on me, people that really need me,” Albus turned around. 

Teddy had a very hard time believing what Albus said - he had seen what he had done to his Aurors.  
  
“Don’t turn your back on me, you coward!” He yelled, growing angry at the situation - even Hufflepuffs had tempers. He cast a spell at Albus, who blocked it, and threw one back at him. It hit the column next to Teddy, shattering the stone.  
  
Albus and Teddy began to duel. Al was on the defensive, deflecting spells the best he could, and attempting to get one or two in. “You know,” Al called, trying to distract him. “I guess I have to say thank you for slicing me open the night of the Ministry break-in.”  
  
Teddy hesitated for a moment, getting caught off guard by what Al was saying. He didn’t exactly think of the three Hounds that had broken in that night. He knew he had injured one, he didn’t know it had been Albus.  
  
“And why is that?” Teddy called back, standing up straight, blocking a spell that Albus threw at him.  
  
Al didn’t have time to answer when Rose threw herself in between the two of them, holding out her hands. “Stop! You two are on the same side! There is no reason to fight amongst ourselves right now!” She scolded. "Al, where’s Scorpius?”  
  
“Uh… I, last I saw he was heading towards the elevators.”  
  
“Rose, get behind me,” Teddy said, and Rose shook her head.  
  
“No, Teddy. Al, go. If you see Scorpius, tell him to find me.”  
  
Al nodded, and stepped forward, grabbing her forearm gently. Teddy stepped forward, in an attempt to protect her but she held out her hand to stop him. "Stay safe," he said, squeezing her arm. She nodded, and looked at him, worry coming over her face before wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. They held the embrace for a while, Rose squeezing harder when they let go.  
  
"You too, Al."  
  
Albus nodded to the two of them, and turned around, running back towards the corridor. Death laid out before him as he stepped over numerous bodies and took care not to step in pools of blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special points if you found the Monty Python quote.


	15. Hot Gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still Fightin'

**29 - Hot Gates**

The Hound Al had cornered had seen Lily, and knew where she was being kept. He had admitted as much, before realizing who was under the mask he was talking to. Then he shut his mouth and refused to give Al anymore information. 

Which, when dealing with Albus, was a bad idea. Al knew how to get information out of a person, and he did it very well. For the first half of his membership with the Hounds - that was all that he did. He extracted information for Morgan. Apparently, this kid either joined after that or forgot completely. Al pulled his wand, pointing at his back.

The other Hound turned and began to walk away before stopping. He put his hands to his head. Al had the ability to control the curse, he could make the inflicted feel as much or as little pain as he wanted. He started out small, a blinding migraine. Where it felt like there was an ice pick in his temple. The Hound fell to his knees. “Tell me where she is, and I can make it stop.”

The hound shook his head gently, pulling off his mask to get some fresh air. Albus twisted his wand a tiny bit, spiking the pain level. He fell over, trying not to let out a sound. Al kicked him onto his back, and put a foot on his chest to hold him down. 

He twisted the wand again, increasing the curse to it’s maximum. The Hound could help but let out a scream. “Alright! Alright!” He screamed. “She’s in the Minister’s office.”

Al stopped the curse, stepping off the Hound. The kid turned over and threw up, and tried to breathe through the lingering pain. Albus pointed his wand to the Hound’s back.  _ “Avada Kedavra,” _ the Hound dropped dead, lying face down in his own vomit.

Al stepped over the body, and made his way towards the elevators. He took out the Ministry official standing guard. He was trying to keep the rest of the Hounds from storming the rest of the Ministry. Though, apparently they didn’t know that some Hounds had slipped through the cracks. He reached over, pressing the button, and looked up at the dial above him to see where the lift actually was. 

He heard yelling for him to stop, drop his wand, and hold his hands. He turned around, his mother was running towards him with Aurors flanking her. He didn’t bother holding his hands off, honestly hoping she’d call them off once she saw his mask. She didn’t call him off, and they threw stunners at him and he ducked, throwing up a quick shield charm. He fell back behind a corner. They continued to shoot spells at him, blasting stone away. 

“Wait,” He heard his mother say. “We don’t want to take this place down. Come out, Hound. You’re three against one.” 

Apparently his father didn’t bother - or didn’t have time to show his mother his mask. He needed to get to those elevators, and he needed  _ to end this. _

Al peered around the corner, before making his move.  _ “Stupify!”  _ He yelled, hitting one of the Aurors in the chest. He fell back against the wall, his head cracking against it. He was met with more spells from his mother and the other Auror. Damn, this sucked. He peeked back around, trying to think of what to do. His mother and the Auror were standing in the middle of the room. If he disapparated, and reapparated as quickly and as quietly as he could, he could probably take out the Auror and disarm his mother. 

He focused on the point behind the Auror, and disapparated and reapparated as quietly as he could behind him - though there was still the small pop sound. The Auror began to turn around, and he slammed his the heel of his boot on the back of the man’s knee, and threw his elbow on his head as he went down. Ginny whipped around, her wand pointing at him, 

Al pointed his wand at her,  _ “Accio,” _ he muttered. Her wand flew out of her hand, and he caught it mid-air. She held up her hands after being successfully disarmed. He prodded the Auror he had elbowed in the forehead to check to see if he was still knocked out. Satisfied, he flipped Ginny’s wand around, presenting the handle to her. 

“Would you stop trying to stun me?” He snapped. The concern on her face turned to confusion, recognizing her son’s voice behind the mask. 

“Albus?” She asked, taking the wand from him. 

He holstered his own wand, and pulled off the mask. “Yeah, it’s me.” 

She stared at him, before stepping closer and putting a hand on his cheek. She hadn’t seen him since Christmas. The way he looked broke her heart. He had several cuts on his face, bruises from his fight with James were still healing. He was exhausted, worn down. His eyes weren’t the bright shining green they had been - even if there was still a spark of determination behind him. Dark circles lined them, most likely from lack of sleep. War had taken it’s toll. She pulled him into her arms, and he hugged her back.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered into his ear

“I’ve missed you too, Mum,” he took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

“Don’t apologize,” she told him. 

“But I…” The two of them pulled away. 

“Stop, you’ve done what you’ve had to do, and I’m so incredibly proud of you, Albus. You’ve been so brave.” Tears welled in her eyes. He reached up, wiping a tear that had escaped, and she couldn’t help but smile. “Your father is looking for you.”

Al pulled his hand away. “If you see him again, tell him I’m going to the Minister’s office.” He put his mask back on, and reached behind himself pressing the button for the elevator again.

“Minister’s office?” She questioned, the lift opened up with a ding. 

“Lily’s up there, my guess she’s with Hermione,” he said and stepped back into the elevator.

“Lily…? Wait, I’m coming with you.” She tried to get into the lift, but Al stopped her.

“No, go look for Dad. She’ll have at least a few Hounds guarding her. I can try and convince them that Morgan wants them to get them to leave,” he adjusted his gloves and pulled the door closed. “I’ll be fine.”

Ginny stepped back, not really wanting to part with her son again. “I love you, Al,” she finally said. 

“I love you too, Mum.” He reached over, pressing the number for the floor of the Minister’s office.    
  


* * *

**30 - Pompeii**

Lily watched the shadows outside of the door, a third had joined the two outside. She narrowed her eyes. She had found a letter opener laying on the floor under the desk, knocked off when they attacked Hermione - only she wasn’t able to reach for it without drawing attention to herself. 

Hermione was now sitting up next to her, she had a cut on her hairline that had bled down her face and onto her robes. She looked over at Lily. One of the hounds stood up, going outside to see what the new one wanted. Lily craned her neck, trying to see the mask of the newcomer, though his back was to the door. The way he stood, though. He was shorter than the others. She and Hermione exchanged glances.

Lily reached forward, grabbing the letter opener and hiding it under her thigh quickly while they were distracted. The other Hound came back in and shrugged to the other, leaving the door open. The Grim stood up from where it was sitting, going inside the office and sniffing the three captives. Lily shied away, it’s breath smelled of rotting meat, and fresh blood stained it’s muzzle. 

One of the Hounds snapped his fingers, calling the beast away from them. 

Five Hounds and a Grim against one with a letter opener wasn’t the best of odds. She peeked around the corner again, the shortest one had his hand on his wand at his thigh holster, and he pulled it out as the Hounds laughed. Her eyes went wide, recognizing the wand. She gave a nod to Hermione - who understood everything. The fifth Hound was Albus. 

Four against one still wasn’t the best of odds. 

* * *

Al laughed with the other four. “Yeah, so. She called you two down there, I don’t know why. Just got passed along the word she was looking for you,” he told them.

“Yeah, we know that’s bullshit,” the biggest one said, turning to stand fully in front of Albus. “Your sister is in there, so is your aunt. Sending two of us down there… well, that would even the playing field just a little bit, don’t you think?”

“Hey, I’m just following orders.” 

The four other Hounds surrounded Albus, including the Grim. There was a moment of tension, and Al ducked as one of the men made a grab for him, he pushed his wand to the chest of one, and muttered something under his breath. There was a flash of green light, and the man fell on back. 

Another Hound grabbed him from behind, and Al struggled, knowing he wouldn’t be able to head butt him because of the masks. The Hound let out a yell and dropped Al. The Hound turned around, trying to get the letter opener from his back, revealing Lily standing in the doorway, she was backing up her eyes wide as the Hound twisted around. Al pulled it from his back, and twisted around. He shoved the letter opener through the mask of the Hound’s eye, as the Grim sunk it’s teeth into Albus’ right arm - over his mark.  

It was like being stabbed with a knife frozen in a vat of dry ice a thousand times over. He reached over, grabbing the Grim by the muzzle, pressing it’s jowls to it’s teeth until it let go. He threw it off of him, and pointed his wand at it. There was a flash of green light and the Grim slammed against the wall, dead. 

The final Hound had taken the time Albus was distracted to grab Lily. His wand pointed at her head. “I’ll do it,” he threatened. “I don’t care what she does. When she knows I killed you too, I’ll be a hero. Set down your wand.” 

Albus held up his hands. “Fine,” he said, setting his wand down on the floor. Lily’s brow furrowed, she never expected her brother to give up so easily. The Hound pushed Lily away, pointing his wand at Al’s chest. Al ducked as the killing curse left the man’s wand and he put him into a chokehold. He snapped his neck, dropped him, and bent to pick up his wand. 

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, before Al pulled off his mask and Lily ran to his arms. He dropped the mask on the floor, and grabbed her, pulling her into a hug. His hand found the back of her head as she cried, and he untied her gag.  

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he muttered, as she put her forehead on his shoulder letting the gag fall to the floor.

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice raspy. Al used his wand to unbind her hands. She wrapped her arms around him in another hug. “I’m just glad you’re here,” she said.

Al held onto her a little longer before letting go and heading into the Minister’s office. Hermione and the Bulgarian Minister were now standing. Lily helped untie their gags while Al undid their binds with his wand. Hermione hugged Al, her arms wrapping around his neck. He looked surprised, before returning the hug. 

Hermione broke away, and rubbed her wrists and looked out at the hallway, her eyes scanning over the downed men. “Ron got me that letter opener for Christmas,” she commented.

“Soap is a thing?” Albus suggested, “Also, what a shit gift.” He bent down, picking up a Hound’s wand and handed it to Lily. She took it in her hand and weighed it. It felt weird, and heavy. Morgan had snapped her original wand when she first got to their headquarters. Al searched the other ones, pulling both his Aunt’s and the other Minister’s from another Hound and handed them back respectively. 

“I don’t think now is the appropriate time for jokes,” the Bulgarian Minister spat. “Besides, you are dressed like those other men, how do you know you can be trusted?”

“Because he’s my nephew,” Hermione said, quickly. “He’s been a spy for the Ministry, and with my family, sir. Any time is a time for jokes.” 

The other minister huffed indignantly and stalked off towards the elevators. 

“Does he know that there is a war going on downstairs?” Al asked. 

“Probably not,” Hermione responded, looking back at her destroyed office. 

“He’s gonna die, isn’t he?” 

“I would count on it.”

“Al, your arm,” Lily said, reminding him that the dull ache was a lot more than a dull ache. He raised it up, blood dripped down his skin, and a portion of his mark and skin had turned black. The bite itself had torn through his skin when Al had pulled the Grim off. Lily could almost see the bone. The frost bite had most likely killed the nerves in his arm.

“That’s inconvenient.” 

_ “That’s inconvenient. _ Oh Al,” Hermione sighed, “let me.” She took Al’s arm gently, first using a warming spell to warm up the skin, she traced over it once.  _ “Vulnera Sanentur,”  _ the new blood that had begun to seep out with the warmth restored began to subside, she traced over it again and said the incantation. Residue began to clear and the wound began to heal, though as soon as it did it turned black again and split open again - like cracked ice. It began to bleed, at least not as bad as before. Hermione lifted up part of her robes, cutting off a small portion with her wand, and wrapped it tightly around his arm. She used another warming charm to keep the frostbite more at bay. “You’ll need a potion for the rest of it,” she said, “But hopefully that will do for now.” 

“Thanks.”

“I’m going to go downstairs to find your father and my husband. Stay safe,” she said, brandishing her wand and heading towards the stairs. 

Al turned back towards Lily, he bent and picked up his mask. “You need to leave and get out of here,” he told her, “Find Nora Nott at St. Mungo’s, I know she’s on emergency shift…” 

“I’m not leaving you,” She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Lily—“

“No,” she cut him off, a little desperately.  _ “I’m not leaving you.” _

“Alright, okay,” he nodded quickly, putting back on his mask. “Sure,” he held out his hand, and she took it. The two of them headed back into the battle. 


	16. Clique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Al and Lily join the others.

**31 - Clique**

“Let’s take the stairs,” Al said, pushing open the door with his back, double checking things were clear, and let her go first. She stepped out onto the landing and he followed. “Stay behind me,” he told her, pulling his wand out. The two of them descended the stairs as fast as they could.

“We need to get to the lobby, Morgan will be —“

Lily stopped, “you’re not going to try and kill her, are you?” She asked. Al stopped and turned around, stepping back up a few stairs.

“I’ve got no choice.”

“You do though, not everything has to end in violence, Al,” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Let the Aurors take her, throw her into Azkaban. You’ve done enough.” She couldn’t see his facial expressions behind the mask, but judging by the sigh and change in stature, he seemed to be annoyed.

“Let’s just go,” he said, ignoring her comments. He knew she was right. He didn’t have to kill her, and he wasn’t about to admit that he wanted to kill her. He wanted the satisfaction of destroying her life.

They started back down the stairs, Lily briefly looking over the side. “Dad said you were dating Nora Nott, again.”

“Word travels fast - is talking about my love life really that important right now?”

“Nothing better to do,” she shrugged. “Just don’t cheat on her again, it was awkward the first time.”

“I’m not a horny sixteen year old anymore.”

“Debatable,” she said. “You know —“

Al had held out his arm to stop her, the door closed below them. He held up a finger to tell her to keep quiet, and waved a hand for her to get down. She squatted, pulling out the Hound’s wand he had given her earlier. She tried to keep her breathing even and as quiet as possible. Al tried to block her the best he could with his cloak.

The two Hounds made their way up the stairs, taking two at a time. They slowed as they saw Al, who had made a show of moving out of the way for them. They eyed him. “What are you doin’ all the way up ‘ere, Potter?”

“Ah, well you know. Just rescuing my little sister. What are you two doing?” Lily’s eyes went wide and she gave him a swift punch to his calf. It made him buckle a little bit, and he grabbed the handrail to steady himself.

“Took a curse to the knee,” he said. “Still acting up a little bit.”

“What are you hiding, Potter?” The second one asked.

There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other and the two Hounds drew their wands. Al was quick to act, pushing him over the edge of the handrail. She fell, hitting another handrail on her way down with a sickening crunch, and hitting the floor with a smack.

 _“Expelliarmus!”_ Lily yelled, popping up behind Al, her wand pointing over his shoulder. The height of the steps allowed her to reach. The second Hound was thrown back against the wall. She looked down at the wand in her hand. It wasn’t as powerful as her old one had been, considering she didn’t exactly win it, but it would do. “Not bad,” she remarked.

“Not bad at all,” Al agreed, if she could have seen his face he would have been proud. She stepped past him down the stairs with a smirk on her face and her head held high.

“Maybe you should stay behind me,” she threw back over her shoulder.

“Sure, it’d be easier to protect you, I suppose,” he challenged.

“I’ll let you think that,” she said before slipping on a step. Al caught her arm, making sure she didn’t fall completely.

“What was that again?”

“Shut up.”

They stepped down onto the ground floor, and Lily couldn’t help but looked at the mess of the Hound that Al had pushed over the edge. The mask had come off, and blood seeped from the cracked skull and broken body. She knew the girl, she had classes with her - and Albus killed her in such a violent and merciless way. Al stepped in front of her, blocking her view from the body as quickly as he could to see her from seeing it. He opened the door, letting her go out first.

She stopped, and Al nearly ran into her. The battle was still raging. Rubble and debris was scattered among bodies, and the grand fountain had been toppled, it’s statues lying on the ground - lifeless.

“Come on, “ Al gave her a little nudge forward, but she didn’t move forward. She was focused on something else.

“James,” she said, nodding towards the corner of the lobby closest to them. He was up two against one - and he was losing.

“Stay here,” he ordered her, and took off in a sprint towards his older brother to try and give him some help. There was a reason why James sat behind a desk all day instead of joining his father as an Auror, dueling wasn’t his strong suit.

Lily ignored him and followed.

Al got to him a second too late - James had gotten hit with a curse and had gone down to his hands and knees. The two Hounds he had been battling made their way to him. Albus stood over him, dueling the Hound on the right, while Lily took the one on the left.

“I thought I told you to stay back.”

“Like I’m going to do that.”

Al finally got in a hit on the Hound, and he went down, lifeless eyes staring up. Lily had disarmed and knocked back the other. Al dropped to his knees, rolling James over. He looked up wide eyed, seeing the mask, and tried to fight Albus off. Al pulled off his mask, and tossed it aside, finally annoyed with the thing, and he put his hands on James’ wound - until he finally passed out.

“Stay with him,” he told Lily. “I’m going to go find Dad.”

“Al—“

“Stay with him,” Al said, firmly. He picked up his brother’s wand, tucking it into the holster on his thigh and headed into the crowd of people. He ducked and dodged as stray spells let loose. He narrowly avoided another grim attack, and used his wand to block another spell.

Harry was battling Morgan in the middle of the lobby, and he was not on the winning side. He looked exhausted. Unlike him and Albus - Morgan had probably gotten a lovely night's sleep. She rarely lifted a finger. This was the first battle he had seen her at.

What was left of the Hounds stood behind Morgan, and what was left of the Ministry stood behind Harry. The fighting had ceased between the two groups, everyone too interested in the fight between the two power-houses.   
  
Al pushed people aside, coming to the front of the Hound’s group. He stood behind Morgan. He could see Scorpius and Rose had finally met up - half of Scorpius’ face was covered in blood and Rose had a scar on her cheek. Ginny was standing behind Harry, her eyes going wide when she saw her son. Ron was further back, though Albus could see his hands clench into fists. Hermione was next to Hugo, holding his hand.   
  
Harry saw Al and slipped up, barely blocking a curse that Morgan threw at him. The crowd had grown silent at the sight of the middle Potter child in Hound armor. Morgan turned around and looked at him, a smirk coming over his face.   
  
“Albus,” she said warmly.“So good of you to finally join us. Come, come join me.”   
  
Her tone made Al want to puke, but he held his face neutral. He stepped up next to her and she reached over, putting a hand on his shoulder. She was just as tall as he was. “I’m so glad you chose the right side, with you by my side, no one can stop us. Now, go. Do what you do best, and kill your father. Then we’ll reign together over muggles and wizards.”   
  
“No,” Al said, his wand now drawn and pointed at her jaw. The other Hounds drew their wands and pointed them at him. The crowd behind Harry pulled their wands, pointing them at the Hounds. "I will never stand by you, Morgan. If you wanted me to stand by you, you shouldn't have kidnapped my sister and threatened the rest of my family. Even though they fucking suck, but they're mine. Consider this my resignation," Al said, his wand still pointed at her, he backed up to stand next to Harry.   
  
"You traitorous little snake," she hissed. "I should have killed you when I found out you were feeding information to them."   
  
"Yeah, kinda rookie mistake. Not killing the mole." Harry called. 

Morgan let out an angry yell. “Then I'll just have to fix my mistake.”

“Then bring it, you bitch.”   
  
Harry glanced over at his son, who was staring with determination at the witch standing across from him. He was out for blood.   
  
"I'll do it," Al muttered to him. "My soul is already torn."   
  
Harry glanced over at him as Morgan took off her cloak. "No, we'll do it together."

* * *

**32 - Long Live**

“So, boys,” Morgan smiled. “Who’s first?” She handed her cloak to another Hound. She was dressed in armor like her followers - the only difference was the wolf was embroidered in gold instead of grey.

She didn’t give the men time to decide, the floor exploded below them. Al protected his face from splintering wood, and Harry did the same. Al threw a counter curse back, distracting her while Harry used the splintered wood to his advantage and cast them back at her. She threw up a shield, blocking herself from the wood and then broke it quickly. The Hounds and the Order members and the Aurors had begun to duel again.

A large flaming dragon erupted from the tip of her wand. Al held up his wand and other hand - focusing on taking control of the beast, while Harry did the same. The fire turned from dragon to snake as it came under Al’s control, while Harry kept the fire’s edges mostly contained to keep the crowd around them safe.

“Let her have it, Al!” Harry yelled. The snake reared up, mouth open, and struck where she was standing. Morgan pushed the fire away, and it dissipated.

 _“CRUCIO!”_ Al yelled, and a red stream of light emitted from his wand, hitting her in the chest. She went down with a scream and Al stepped closer, trying to bring as much pain as he possibly could to her. She fought through it, slashing her wand at him with a yell. He was thrown back onto his back - the wind getting knocked out of him. He groaned, a grimace coming over his face. There was a ringing in his ears, and he saw stars. He put his hand to his chest to make sure she didn't use some sort of cutting curse on him. She seemed more interested in stopping the pain rather then maiming, thank Merlin.

Harry was on the defensive, blocking every spell she could think to throw at him. Al felt hands pull him up to a sitting position, and he looked back. Scorpius was standing behind him, “finish her off, mate,” he said and helped Al stand up. He handed Al back his wand.

He stepped back into the fight, deflecting a curse that Morgan had sent towards Harry. It hit a wall to the left of them, and tile exploded away.

"Thanks Al!" Harry called.

"Not a problem!" Al shot more red bolts at her - all with the intention of torturing her until she couldn’t speak anymore. Until he reverted her to nothing more than a child.

Harry and Al continued to blast spells at her, not letting up. She began to back away, into the crowd. She broke her shield charm and turned to run to buy herself a little reprieve. Al took after her, hot on her heels, Harry not far behind. She aimed a spell over her shoulder, haphazardly, and it hit a fireplace, making it collapse. Al shot another red bolt at her, tripping her. She went down with a scream. She writhed around, and Albus pressed forward.

He saw it out of the corner of his eye, a grim running at him. It lunged, mouth open. Harry stepped in front of it, and a silver stag erupted from the tip of his wand, sending the beast back. In Al's distraction she returned his Cruciatus Curse. Sending him back to the ground. The familiar feeling of a thousand white hot knives stabbing him came over him.

 _"Expelliarmus!"_ Harry called, using his signature to attempt to break the curse on Al and it worked. Al pulled himself back up, and noticed Roxanne had been watching, a little too closely for Al's comfort. He pushed her back with a spell, and headed back into the fight.

Morgan took a cue from Harry, enchanting the broken glass to attack them. Al stepped up in front, pushing it back away. "Good one, Al!" Harry called. Apparently four O.W.L.s didn't mean shit when it came to skill, he realized.

He shot another disarming spell at her, catching her off guard as the wand flew from her hand.

 _“AVADA KEDAVRA!”_ Albus shouted. He saw an opening and he took it - knowing it would probably be one of the only times he had an opening. A jet of green light shot from his wand, hitting her in the chest. She took a step back, eyes wide and mouth open. She fell back, hitting the floor. She was dead. The darkness that had taken over the Ministry seemed to lift.

Some were silent, though others let out a cheer. The remaining Hounds dropped their wands and held up their hands. Aurors began to make their arrests. Al stood straight, his heart beating hard in his chest and he was breathing hard. Harry put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it.

Harry was talking to him, but Al wasn’t paying attention. He was starting at the body in front of him. It was over. The last two years of living in darkness and hiding was over. He felt like a weight had lifted from his chest and he could breathe again. He didn’t expect to kill her, but the words came out of his mouth before he realized what he was doing. It didn’t feel over. It felt like she would jump back up.

Two years ago he took the mark and even though he, Rhys, and Scorpius knew what they were getting into, he didn’t expect her to take a liking to him. He didn’t expect for her to use him the way she did. He learned a lot about himself in those two years.

He didn’t regret his actions -  he had done horrible things, and sacrificed a lot of himself in the process. But, his family was finally safe. He finally understood what that homeless lady had said when he was 16 - he had a wolf inside of him, and he fed it with torture and death. He had a darkness inside of him and it would never go away.

A wave of nausea hit him and he bent over, one of his hands on his knee, the other one rest on the wall next to him. He closed his eyes to try and let it pass. He felt a hand on his back, gently rubbing it.

“You did good, Albus,” his mother’s voice said - it felt far away.

He dry heaved, unable to throw anything up besides a little bit of bile. He hadn’t had anything to eat in two days. Ginny continued to pat him on the back.

“I’m proud of you,” Harry finally said, Al only nodded as another wave of nausea hit him. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth to get it to pass. “You need to get to the hospital.”

Al sucked in a few more deep breaths, and shook his head. He stood up straight. “I’ll go later, there’s too much to do here.”   
  
He turned and walked towards where he had originally left Lily and James - they were gone, most likely on their way to St Mungos. He bent down, picking up his mask. He brushed the dust and debris from the front of it. He would never need to wear it again. Scorpius put a hand on his shoulder, and Al turned to look at him.   
  
"It's finally done," Scorpius said, a small smile coming over his face. "It feels good."    
  
Albus nodded, "yeah it does."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long to get out! The next chapter will come way faster, promise. :)


	17. Polaroid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Al goes to the hospital.

**33 - Polaroid**

Nora desperately searched the crowd, she clung to the stethoscope on her neck. Those who had been involved in the Attack on the Ministry had started arriving not long ago, and the damage was extensive. She had been pulled from Pediatrics to help, and Draco Malfoy had come in to help as well. The total injured had started to climb by mid-day.

“Have you seen Albus?” She asked Draco as he passed her. She had heard he was here, from other patients.

“No,” he replied. “How about Scorpius and Rose?”

“I think I saw them a few minutes ago, down that way,” she waved her hand towards a packed hallway. They had moved stretchers to the hallways to accommodate the influx. Minor injuries got a hallway, major ones got a room. Draco nodded and headed off that way. She passed by, looking into the lobby.

She saw him, sitting down with a little boy, who was probably no more than six. Both were dirty and covered with blood. Nora had seen more children than she had wished today. There was a daycare in the Ministry, and the Hounds had hit that too. The boy sat back in the chair, his feet dangling off the edge. His hands were clenched together in his lap. Al was leaned over, talking to him. She never realized how good with kids he was. The boy had stopped crying, and Al had his hand on his back. His mask was in his other hand.

She watched for a moment, before realizing that Al had a strip of bloodstained robes on his arm, and was holding his other arm at an angle. She realized she probably needed to help them.

“Albus,” she said, walking towards him, practically jogging. Al looked up, relief washing over his face. He got up and pulled her into a hug, holding her as close as he could. Albus wasn’t touchy-feely. He didn’t like hugs, he didn’t like being touched. She knew she was the exception. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him back just as hard. He buried his face in her dark hair, kissing the top of her head. He let go of her, turning back around to face the little boy he had been sitting with. He squatted down, rubbing the little guy on his back. He had started to tear up again.

“This is Jamie,” Al introduced the boy, as Nora squatted down in front of him.

“Hi Jamie, I’m Nora, I’m a healer. You look pretty banged up, huh?”

He nodded, “I want my mum,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Let’s get you patched up, and we’ll find her, okay?”

She stood, and held out her hand for him, and he took it. They walked down the hall and she picked him up and put him on a stretcher. She put her stethoscope eartips in her ears and rested the chest piece on his back. “Big breath in,” she said, breathing in with him, she looked over at Al, who had taken up a spot on the stretcher next to the kid.

He had leaned his head back against the wall, his mouth was open - he was passed out. She moved the chest piece, telling the boy to breathe in again, before moving it into his chest. “Airways are fine,” she muttered to herself, wrapping the stethoscope back around her neck. She took out her wand and igniting the tip of it. “Can you follow this with your eyes?” She asked.

The boy did as he was told, and she looked over his bumps, cuts, and bruises. A mediwitch was passing by. “Hey, can you take over here? This is Jaime. He’s just got some bumps and bruises and needs help finding his parents. I need to take care of him.” She jerked her head over to Albus.

The mediwitch nodded, and Nora put a hand on Al’s knee, making him jump awake. “Let’s go to a room and take a look at you,” Al nodded and followed her.

“Can you give me a shot of adrenaline?” He asked, settling down on an exam table. She put up the occupied sign on the outside of the door, and closed it.

_“What?”_

“I’ve still got a lot to do, I need to go back to the Ministry, I need to make sure the rest of my family are safe.”  
  
“No, you need rest.” 

She put the stethoscope back in her ears, “breathe in,” she said. Thinking about what he asked, he did as he was told, and her brow furrowed. She moved the drum to another spot. “Breathe in again,” she moved her stethoscope to his chest. “Breathe normal.” He was having a hard time breathing, something was causing him pain.  

She pulled the stethoscope from her ears and stared him down. “Your lungs sound like shit,” she told him, and wrapped the device back around her neck. She was ignoring his request. “You need to stop smoking.”

“Can we discuss this later?”

“Stop smoking,” she said, bluntly and washed her hands. She pulled on latex gloves and began to feel around his ribs, until he shied away. “Broken ribs,” she sighed. “Frankly, I’m surprised you don’t have a collapsed lung. We need to get this armor off.”

She began to help him unbuckle it, and helped it off his arms, trying to be as gentle as possible as she peeled the leather from his wound. She balled it up, and threw it unceremoniously at the chair on the other side of the exam room a little too hard - like she was mad at it and everything it stood for.

Her eyes immediately went to his right arm, the one that had been wrapped in robe. His dark mark had started to fade. Half of it was covered up by frostbitten skin.

“Does it hurt?” She asked, and he shook his head no. “Can you feel this?” She gently rested the back of her hand on it. He shook his head no again. The nerves had been damaged with the frostbite.

Her fingers gently moved over the punctures. This was a bite mark. The way the skin had been ripped suggested he had pulled whatever animal had latched itself onto his arm off. She could almost see bone, even though it had looked like someone had attempted to heal it, which meant a conventional healing spell wouldn’t work.

“What bit you?” She finally asked, looking up at him with a frown. He seemed off in his own world, probably still comprehending that this was over. He was also probably fighting off exhaustion, as far as she knew he had been awake coming on 48 hours.

“A grim,” he told her.

She dropped his arm, going to the cupboard above the counter and began to go through her potions. She pulled out several glass bottles, and several rolls of gauze. She paused, peeling off her gloves and throwing them away, hurrying out the door. She returned after a moment, uncorking a potion and pushing it into his hands.

“Drink this, it’s Vitamix. My mediwitches use it to give them energy during long shifts. I need to go grab more stuff,” she disappeared again, not bothering to close the door behind her.

* * *

Al looked at the bottle, before throwing it back like a shot and pulling a face. Why couldn’t they just once make a potion that tasted good? Almost immediately, he could feel the effects kick in. The exhaustion that had clouded his mind and pulled at his bones was gone. He was alert again.

Healers, mediwitches, and patients walked by the room, not paying any attention to who was inside. Except a red headed man who backtracked, seeing his nephew sitting on the exam table.

Ron leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. Al looked up at him, he had a cut that had been stitched up on his cheek and had a black eye. He had a limp as well.

“What in the bloody hell happened to you?” Ron was trying to joke, at least.

“I fought in a war,” Al said, not in the mood. He ignored the ache that had since come over his body. The potion had given him energy, but it didn’t ward off the pain like the adrenaline had. He looked down at the floor.

Ron came into the room a little more, “what you did was impressive.”

“Oh, so not even a thank you?”

“I’ll thank you after you’ve apologized for Christmas.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Ron sighed, his face softening. “I’m sorry, Al,” he finally said.

Al furrowed his brow, unable to process what his uncle had just said. Ron was apologizing, and it took Al by surprise. Ron was usually never the type to apologize. Albus snorted, one ‘sorry’ wasn’t going to change the lifetime of shit he had endured.

Al looked up at him and shook his head. “I don’t want your apologies,” he said. “Do you know why I did what I did?” Al asked. “Do you know why I do what I do? Why I push so hard to be the best?” He slid off the table coming face to face with him. “Because of you.”

Ron stared at him, his brow furrowing. “You’re such an egotistical and arrogant bastard, you know that? Just accept something for once, stop asking for more and stop being selfish.”

“You’re fuckin’ right, I am egotistical, arrogant, and selfish. Because at the end of the day that’s all I’ve fucking got, you ignorant fucking asshole. You think that I live on a pile of gold when it’s really a pile of shit. You want the secret to my success? Defeat and failure, because when you face it everyday it fuels you. It drives you to fly better, throw harder, run farther. It drives you to demand greatness.

“I risked my life for you, I risked my friends’ and my family’s lives for you! For you to turn around and say sorry, when you realize that I’m not all that bad - and I’ve got a big news fucking flash for you, mate.” Al had begun to pace.

“I am just as bad as you thought. You’re a couple years too late. I destroyed myself for you. My soul is ripped and torn, and do you know what that’s like? There’s a darkness threatening to take what little threads of humanity you’ve got left, and you’ve got to try with everything you’ve got not to fall into the pit that’s in front of you. The only things keeping me from doing that are Lily, Rose, and Nora.”

He came up, putting his finger into Ron’s chest. “Because despite how much you pieces of shit drag me down and through the mud, I couldn’t stand the idea of losing any of you.”

He stepped back, breathing hard with his rant, he was clutching his ribs.

“I love you Al, but I’ll always fucking hate you.”

That set Al off again. “You love me because I’m your family. You love me because I’m your sister and best friend's kid. You love me because I can get you free tickets to any match you want, and you love me because you have no choice. But you _shouldn’t_ \- I don’t want your love. You _should_ hate me. You should hate me because I stood up to you when everyone else was afraid of you. You should hate me, because I demanded greatness when you told me I would never get it. When you told me I would never amount to anything. When you told me I was a mistake. You should hate me because I'm better than you, and I will always be better than you. You never made it to my level, and you'll never make it there.”

Albus took another step back, a smirk on his lips. “I worked hard for my ego, arrogance, selfishness and greatness. I didn't get three English Cup Championships, and two Quidditch World Cup Championships by sitting on my ass. So don’t you dare try and take it away from me again. I don’t want your apologies, I don’t want your love. I learned a long time ago I won't get it.” He pointed to the doorway. “Get the fuck out of my face before I break yours again.”

Ron turned around on his heel, leaving the room without so much as a word. Al sat back down on the the exam table, clenching his jaw. Nora came in a few moments later, putting a tube of something down, and a few more potion bottles.

"Let me take a look at your elbow before we get started on your arm..." she said, putting on gloves again, and walking over to him.

"You heard that, didn't you?" He finally said, wincing as she prodded at it. He looked over at her, and she had turned a shade of red. Not looking up at him, she nodded.

"How long has your elbow been broken?" She asked, finally looking up at him.

"Uh. At least a day and a half."

"You idiot. It would have been an easy fix if you had just asked someone to heal it when it happened. You made it worse by continuing to use it," she sighed, and stood up going to the counter.

"I was kinda distracted."

"By what?" She gave him a look, giving him a cup with Skele-Gro. Al looked at it as it smoked and downed it as fast as he could. It burned on the way down, and he almost threw it back up. It was safe to say that Skele-Gro was not one of his favorite things, and he drank it far too often.

"A basilisk."

"A basilisk?" She repeated.

"In the castle. Cut off it's head and all."

She looked at him, her mouth open slightly, like she almost didn't believe him. She began to wrap his elbow to give it at least some protection. Once that was done, she headed back towards the counter, looking through the potion bottles she had pulled.  

"Take this for pain, and this one for internal bleeding - just incase. Let me set your ribs and we'll get started on this bite," she handed him two cups. He downed them each, pulling a face. She helped him lift his undershirt. She moved her wand over his ribs, muttering a spell. He could feel his ribs moving back into place and setting. More gauze began to wrap itself around his torso. “I need to take these stitches out too,” she looked at the cut she had stitched up a week ago on his hip. She waved her wand, and they began to come out themselves.

She took his arm, pouring a wound cleaning potion over it. It smoked - though Al couldn't feel the stinging. "Are you sure you can't feel anything?"

"Yeah. There's nothing there. Besides, it’s not like you didn’t hand me a bottle of firewhiskey and tell me to suck it up a few days ago.”

Nora gave a soft smile, not realizing that it had only been a few days ago. Everything that had happened this week… it had been a whirlwind. She had no time to cry for her brother, she had no time to grieve.

“Nora,” Al said while she was slathering a purple paste on the inside of the bite and on the outside.

“Mm?” She asked, not looking up at him.

“Rhys died four days ago, and…” he bit his lip, trying to get the words out. “You broke up with Finch — your fiancé, and now we’re dating. Are you sure you want to be doing this? Are you sure you’re not caught up in everything and just seeking comfort?”

Nora didn’t respond for awhile, she was fighting back tears. She didn't speak until she got up to grab another paste. “Did you mean what you said to your Uncle earlier?”

“What?”

“Me being your light.”

“Yeah, of course.”

She turned around. “Al, you and I both know we’ve loved each other since school. Just never at the right times, and despite all this shit going on now, and what happened these last few days. When you asked me if I loved him, you planted that seed in my head. When we had sex it _was_ right, it _felt_ right. I made up my mind when you left that morning that I wanted to be with you, and that was before all of this.  I think you made up your mind too, but it _is_ about comfort too. Mine just as much yours. We’ll need each other now more than ever.  I want to be dating you.”

Al gave a small smile at her words, and she began to put the second paste. When combined with the first it turned from purple to a bright blue. She made sure to get it into the punctures. She got up and washed her hands again, and pulled her wand, waving it over the bandages on the counter. Gauze pads settled down on it themselves, and more gauze began to wrap itself around his arm.

She helped him get his arm and elbow in a sling. “I saw your brother, by the way. He’s just around the corner and to your left. Room 287. Go ahead and go on down there, I’ll catch up later.”

“Thanks, Nora,” Al gave a soft smile, gave her a kiss on the lips, and slid from the exam table.  
  
"No problem," she said, returning the kiss.

He grabbed his armor, and his mask and left the room. He headed down the hallway, passing more stretchers with more people. He passed rooms until he finally found James', and gave a light knock on the door.

"Come in," he heard his sister-in-law call. He opened the door and Sarah looked up at him, brow furrowing. She had gotten the story from Lily. She stood and crossed to him and hugged him. He patted her on the back awkwardly. Why did everyone in this fucking family decide to hug him? He pulled away from her grasp.

“How is he?”

“Fine, that was quite a curse they hit him with.”

“Yeah, I saw it,” Al said, turning to Sarah. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Not to mention, she was apparently pregnant. The last time he had seen her was Christmas, most likely they announced their pregnancy then. “Go home, gets some rest, come back in a few hours. I’ll stay with him,” he told her.

She chewed her lip, looking back at him, Al could tell she didn’t really want to leave. She eventually nodded. “Let me know when he wakes up?” She asked.

“As soon as he wakes up, you’ll know about it.” He confirmed.

“Thanks, Al.” She kissed him on his cheek, and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Albus was left in the room with just him and his brother. He hesitated, before sitting down in the chair that Sarah had been occupying a few moments before. He set his mask and armor on the table next to the bed, put his feet up on James’ bed, leaned back and closed his eyes. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep.


	18. Good Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Al and James have a talk, there's an interesting discovery at Morgan's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a beast, y'all. Enjoy!

**34 - Good Grief**

James was outnumbered, two to one. He swung his wand, using a quick shield to block the incoming curses and spells. He was being backed into a corner, like an animal. Dueling had never been a strength of his.   
  
This was it, he could tell this was the final battle. He was fighting for his wife, he was fighting for his kids - and he didn’t want to fight… he just wanted to go to his job and come home at the end of the night.   
  
But, when his father, and his mother, and whole family fought - he fought too. When his brother stood and fought on the wrong side - wearing one of those grotesque masks and chest plates with the wolf embroidered on the front. He believed in everything his father had preached against.   
  
His anger got the best of him, and he threw a slurry of spells back.   
  
His little brother, Albus. Growing up he had been so quiet, more of an observer than a partaker. He followed James around like a puppy. Now he was a wolf that had the taste of blood and wanted more. James had seen Al battle in Ottery St Catchpole, he had seen him kill an Auror.   
  
He knew Al was there somewhere, in the sea of men and women dressed in black fighting against the Aurors, the Ministry, and Order.   
  
A piercing fire hit him in his arm and he was brought back to the present - he had gotten hit with a curse. He went down, and could feel blood begin to run from is arm and pool around him. His wife, his daughter and unborn daughter. His vision was starting to cloud…   
  
A boot stepped in front of him, he could hear more spells whizzing past. He couldn’t look up to see his savior. Green light flooded his vision. One man he was fighting dropped in front of him, his eyes staring at him - open and lifeless. The other one had hit a wall.   
  
That was the last thing he remembered.   


* * *

  
James woke up in a hospital bed, the room was sterile and white. St Mungo's. The room itself was quiet - save for snoring next to him. His wife, kids… Family? What about his little sister? His cousins? His little brother, was he in jail or — no. He looked over, first seeing the black wolf mask with two gold bars coming down from it’s right eye. His heart got stuck in his throat.   
  
The memories were vague, but they came back.   
  
A man with the same wolf mask had knelt over him, pushing him onto his back. James had panicked, seeing the mask and tried to fight the man off until he restrained him. Hands found the wound, and put pressure on it. The mask came off, but he had passed out before he could see who his savior was.   
  
He tried to move, though something heavy was in the way of his blankets - and there was still that snoring. He furrowed his brow and sat up, looking over to see his brother sleeping in the chair next to him. His own arm was in a sling, the other arm was wrapped completely. James adjusted the best he could with one arm, and Al woke up.     
  
The man who had saved him had been Albus, he realized.   
  
Al sat up, pulling his his boots off the bed. He sat forward, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be right back,” he told him and left the room.   
  
James furrowed his brow, confused. He looked around for his wand, and couldn’t find it. Fantastic.   
  
The door opened again and Nora Nott walked in. She closed the door behind her, clad in white robes with the typical wand and bone cross embroidered on her pocket. “Al said you were awake,” she said warmly, so that’s where his brother went. He tensed up a little bit when she came near him. His father had said something about Al and Nora dating…   
  
“How’s your pain?” She asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking out her wand and illuminating the tip. She held it in her left hand while she checked his eyes for concussion.   
  
“Uh, yeah. It’s fine,” his voice was raspy.   
  
“I want to keep you overnight, just incase. You were hit with a pretty nasty curse." She extinguished the tip of her wand and tucked it back into her robe pockets. She poured him a glass of water and handed it to him with a smile.   
  
He stared at her, she was so warm and kind - but she was dating his brother. He took a sip of the water, grateful. “Thanks,” he muttered.   
  
The door opened again, and Al walked in with a cup of coffee in his hand. Nora went over to greet him. He took another sip of his water as Al handed Nora his coffee and she took a drink of it before handing it back. The two of them were talking about something, but he couldn’t tell what they were saying. Nora took the coffee again, and Al put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it lightly. He kissed her forehead, and she left the room, closing the door behind her.   
  
Al came back over to the chair, setting the coffee down on the table next to his mask. “Oh,” he said, going to his armor and pulling out a wand. James couldn’t help but tense up and look away as though facing inevitable death - it didn’t go unnoticed by Al. “What the fuck are you doing?”   
  
Al was holding out the handle of his wand for him. “I made sure to grab it for you.”   
  
James nodded and took it as Al sat back in the chair with a sigh, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. They were both silent for a long time, neither one of them wanting to start the inevitable argument.   
  
James finally went first. “Thank you.”   
  
“No need.”   
  
“Decided your family was more important than your friends?”   
  
Al’s shoulders slumped and he sighed. He was tired of this conversation. “It wasn’t like that.”   
  
“Then what was it like, Al? You stood on that other side, you took that fucking mark. You…” He stopped, getting angry and lightheaded. He rarely swore, only when he was truly upset.   
  
Al was silent for a while and contemplated leaving. They were already on bad terms. What was not speaking to each other?   
  
“I took the mark to protect you,” he finally said, looking up at him. “To protect you and Lily.”   
  
James looked up at him, and Al was looking down at his hands.   
  
“Rhys, Scorpius, and myself were approached by Morgan a couple of years ago to join her."   
  
"Why would she approach you?" James asked. "You're a Potter."   
  
"That's exactly why she approached me. She felt as though having a Potter on her side would make her more of a threat, I guess. She knew the family and I already had rifts...I hadn't lived with Mum and Dad since I was sixteen." He sighed, already tired of explaining himself and why he did things. This was the fourth or fifth time today, and he wanted to just go home and sleep. "So, we agreed. We took her mark - but not before we talked. We decided we would take her down from the inside, because we couldn't stand to see our families torn apart."   
  
James looked down at Al’s right arm, to see what became of the mark, but it was covered in bandages. He furrowed his brow as he stared at it. He realized that Albus had everything - and nothing. He had been pushed aside so often. He looked different, he was sorted into a different house. He took a different path. He had been kicked out of the family.   
  
Al had worn a mask all those years, most likely to shield himself from the family - to make himself stand out even more. He was still very much the quiet little brother he remembered. No wonder he had spent so much time at the Malfoy’s during the summer. He could probably be himself with them.   
  
James realized that Albus had every reason to hate them. He had every reason to turn his back to go with his friends.   
  
But he did the opposite - he risked his life, his career, everything for his family. Even though they had treated him differently and ostracized him, he still loved them. Scorpius too - Scorpius was just as much of a spy as he was - the two of them were heroes.   
  
“Who all knew that you were a spy?”   
  
“Mum, Lily, Rose… Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione…”   
  
“So everyone but me.”   
  
Al gave a laugh, and nodded. “We had to keep it that way. For everyone’s safety. Ended up shit in the end, and I’m not entirely sure Ron still is convinced that I’m not a bad guy.”   
  
James chuckled. He had missed his brother, he finally felt like he had gotten him back. It felt good.   
  
"But," James said. "Why did you do it?"   
  
"Do what? Take the mark?" James nodded. "To protect you all."   
  
"No, why did you _really_ take it?"   
  
"Because if I didn't, than who would? Because I - at the time - had nothing to lose. I suppose it was to prove myself, too. To who, I don't really know."   
  
"Uncle Ron said at Christmas you couldn't cast a Patronus and when you apparate it's black...was that true?" James was afraid of the answer. He was afraid that his baby brother had turned into a Dark wizard, something he promised he wouldn't do a long time ago.   
  
Al nodded, "It's true."   
  
James furrowed his brow. "Dad said if you have enough remorse than you can get that back..."   
  
"I don't have remorse," Al said quickly, looking up at him. "I won't ever regret the things that I did. I'll probably stay a Dark wizard until I die. Frankly, I'm okay with it."   
  
They sat in silence for a while before Al finally spoke up. "Congratulations, by the way. Having another baby, that's exciting."   
  
James broke out into a grin. "Yeah. Another little girl. She's due in July."   
  
"Pick a name yet?"   
  
"Ruby."   
  
"That's a dumb name."   
  
"At least it's not yours."   
  
Al let out a laugh. "I am sorry, though, for beating the living shit out of you and tackling you into a car hood."   
  
"Hey, it's fine. I also beat the shit out of you, only fair."   
  
The two men laughed when Sarah came in, holding June. Relief washed over her face to see the two of them talking and enjoying themselves. Al stood up, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I'll leave you two."   
  
"Thanks for keeping an eye on him, Albus," Sarah said.   
  
Al nodded. "It's no problem. Watchful eye the entire time."   
  
"He was sleeping."   
  
"That too."   
  
Sarah grinned and sat down in the chair reaching over and taking James' hands into her own.   
  
Al grabbed his stuff, and paused at the doorway, looking back. Sarah had just reached over to give James a kiss. He gave a small smile and headed out into the corridor, closing the door behind him.      
  
Nora was waiting in one of the chairs that lined the hallway, the Head Healer told her to go home and get some rest. She wanted to wait for Al. He dropped himself into the seat next to her, and looked over.   
  
"And now we grieve," she said, looking over at him.   
  
"And now we grieve," he echoed, taking her hand.

* * *

**35 - Ophelia  
** _February 22, 2033  
_ _4:30 PM._

Al walked through the door of Morgan’s small mansion, a gathering of Aurors, Ministry workers, as well as Order members stood in front of Harry who was talking. He closed the door as quietly as he could, and walked up to the crowd, standing next to Scorpius and Draco.

After his hospital stay he went home, took a shower, had a drink and a cigarette, and managed to sleep for two days straight. He may have woken up once or twice to pee, but it otherwise had been a dead sleep. Nora had actually gotten worried after not hearing from him for 24 hours, and had gone over to his flat with Lily to check on him.

His hair was still partially wet from Quidditch practice - it was the first day back after a break from the end of the season in September. He had two new members on his team, and they had started out early in the day. He always liked to break egos early on, usually by ten. He had a bag of ice taped to his shoulder. Draco looked over at him with a furrowed brow and Al shook his head.  His old Quidditch injury was acting up again.

He focused on his father, who was telling them what they needed to look for, and what they needed to destroy, and if they needed to call in magical creature removal - how to do that. He split them off into teams of two with himself and Al taking her office.

Al waited for the crowd to disperse before meeting up with Harry. The two of them headed up the stairs.

"How was practice? Didn't you sign two new players?"

"It was fine, good to be back on the pitch." He nodded. "We did, they're alternates. They had only been playing professionally for a couple of years. Only like 19. I broke their egos early. They're alternates, after all," Al smirked. They wouldn't get to play much, if any at all. There was no need to spout that you play for the National English Quidditch team.

"And I thought I was an asshole," Harry laughed, looking at his son.

"I _am_ an asshole," Al confirmed.

"How's your arm? What’s with the ice?”

"It hurts, and my shoulder is acting up. From that old injury when I was still in school. It sticks every once and awhile. I’m trying to keep the swelling down. How’s your leg?”

Harry had been walking with a limp, a Hellhound had taken a pot shot at his shin and caused a bit of damage. “Hurts,” Harry sighed, opening the door to her office. He sighed again, this was going to take a while. Bookshelves lined the room, with either boxes, books, or both of them. Her desk was littered with papers, along with a table in the corner.

"She didn't exactly organize, did she?" Harry asked, looking over at his son, who just shook his head and pulled out his wand.

“I’ll take the desk and this half, if you take the table and that half?” Al suggested, but didn’t wait for an answer before he raised his wand, and waved it over the bookshelves. The books began to float out, and stacked themselves on the floor.

"Let's get started."

* * *

Al dropped the box filled with documents on the pile downstairs next to the door. It felt like he and Harry had barely made a dent in the office. Years, and years worth of documents and dark artifacts littered the room. Each more different than the next, Harry nearly got impaled by a book that decided to spit spikes if it didn’t like the person opening it. Al had taken a book out that was covered in what he thought was human skin and delved into extremely dark magic. He flipped through it, realizing that he might have been a Dark wizard, but he could never get on board with this stuff. He had handed it back to his father and said “deal with it,” before picking up a box and heading downstairs.

The door was open and he glanced outside. There were cages of animals lined up on the front lawn, though he knew some were being destroyed, like the Grim puppies and their mother, and the basilisk egg.

He turned, about to go back upstairs when he heard a small whimper. Al paused, turning back around on his heel. He heard the whimpering again and looked at the table next to the door. He dropped down, on his hands and knees, looking under the table. An extremely tiny Grim puppy was cowering back against the wall. Her red eyes were wide and she was shaking. How she managed to get out of the grasp of the magical beast caretakers,  Al wasn’t sure. She was tinier than the others, she most likely bolted off and found herself in the house.

Albus furrowed his brow and reached in to shoo her out, she bared her teeth, growling and nipped at him. He pulled his hand back not exactly wanting to suffer another bite from a Grim. He got up, going to the kitchen and looking through the cupboards until he found a bag of crisps. He unrolled the bag, dropping back down to his hands and knees and held the chip towards her. She sniffed it, gave him a look, and then took it. She dropped it, sniffed at it again, before eating it.

Al took another one out of the bag and held it out towards her, towards the edge of the table, and she followed him until she was completely out from under it.

He gave it to her, and put a hand on her back gently as she ate. Her fur was cold, and a light black aura rose from her body. He wondered what to do with her, if he left her, she’d die without her mother. If he handed her off to the Ministry officials, she’d be killed. While he was contemplating, she found her way into the crisp packet, eating as many as she could before he pulled her out and stood up, holding her to his chest. She looked up at him, with big red eyes.

Fuck it, he was keeping her.

She snuggled herself closer to his chest, and he gave her some scratches behind the ears. She yawned, and he almost died. He looked at her as she fell asleep against his chest. She'd need a name. He looked around the room, finding a copy of Hamlet that had been left on a shelf. He picked it up and began to flip through it until he found a name. "Ophelia," he said, looking down at her.

He headed back up the stairs and into the office, where Harry looked up at him. "What are you holding?"

"Nothing."

"Al, I can see you holding something," Harry dropped the book he was going through and strolled over to Al, who had turned away from him to try and hide whatever it was. Harry tried to grab him and the two of them struggled for a moment.

Finally, Harry had gotten a good enough grip on his son to see what he was holding. The puppy had woken up in the small skirmish and stared at Harry.

"You're not keeping it, they're dangerous Al. You saw what they did at the Ministry. _To your arm."_

"She'll be killed, and I am an adult. However, those were trained to do that. I know, I used them, remember? She deserves a chance. Look how little she is."

Harry eyed his son as the Grim turned over in his hand, asking for belly rubs. "Remember, it’s not the Grim, it's the owner."

"Fine. I'm not dealing with the permits or the registration. That's on you," Harry said, taking the small Grim into his hands and picked her up. She glared at him, rather annoyed with being woken up.

"You do realize I'm an adult, right? Like I have rent, and I pay my own bills," he said.

"Al..."

Albus cut him off. "I defeated Morgan. I won two Quidditch World Cups. I am Captain of the National Quidditch team. But you know, registration of my own animal makes me want to shit myself." Now he was just being mean.

"Okay, okay. _I got it,"_ Harry said, handing the puppy back to him. "Let's just get back to work."

* * *

Al had stopped by the pet store on his way home, and then to the market. Bringing a magical wolf/dementor hybrid into muggle establishments was tricky. He had found a blanket upstairs in one of the rooms of the mansion and wrapped her in it, keeping her smoke from being seen. He kept her close to his chest as he threw several toys into a basket, along with treats, food and water bowls, a leash, and a collar.

Next, he had stopped by the market and bought as much steak as he could without going overboard, and that was what he was occupied with. He was cutting the raw steak into cubes, and then throwing it into a ziplock.  Ophelia was sitting on the floor next to his feet, bright eyes staring up at him, hoping she would get a piece. He tossed one to her and she let it fall to the floor, and looked up at him. She wasn’t catching shit. She stood up and gobbled it up, licking the floor.

Al put the rest of the steak into the baggies and zipped them closed. He washed his hands, his cutting board, and his knife in the sink and put the baggies away in the fridge when the door opened. He heard Nora step on a squeaky toy, and call for him.

He wiped his hands on a towel and met her in the living room, he kissed her on the cheek and she returned it, pulling the bag from her shoulder, and setting it on the floor. “Al, what is all this?” She asked, motioning to the toys laying around the apartment.   
  
“They’re for Ophelia.”   
  
“Ophelia?” She asked, an eyebrow raised as Al reached down and picked up the Grim, and held her out to Nora, who’s mouth was open. “You brought home a Grim?” She asked, reluctantly taking the puppy. The two of them stared at each other and Ophelia reached out to give her a small, and very cold lick on her nose.

Al nodded, watching as Nora deposited the puppy on the couch. “She was alone.”

“You adopted something that tried to kill you, speaking of which, we need to check on that,” she reached down, picking up the bag and followed Al into the bathroom. Ophelia jumped off the couch and followed the two of them.   
  
“When have I ever been afraid of anything that’s tried to kill me?” Al asked, starting the water in the sink and Nora pulled clean washcloth from the cupboard above the toilet. The Grim sat back on her haunches in the doorway and watched them.   
  
Nora gave him a look, washing her hands, and pulled on her gloves. She began to unwrap the gauze and peeled it away. The pastes had turned into a green color in the time they had been setting. She was more paying attention to his wound than his face - which was twisted into a grimace. “Have you gotten the feeling back?”   
  
“Oh yeah, I can feel every bit of that,” he groaned.   
  
“That’s good!”   
  
“For who, exactly?”   
  
She gave him a look and began to wipe the dried pastes away, her brow furrowing. “The punctures have started to heal,” she muttered. “But the skin is still black. I’m afraid it’ll be black for a while…” she twisted it around, seeing it had been oozing.   
  
“Have you been practicing with it?” She asked, reaching into her bag to pull out a few potions and more gauze.   
  
“Nope,” he shook his head and she looked up at him. “...Yes.”   
  
“You haven’t been cleared yet, Albus.”

“Well, that’s shit, because practice started today and I can’t sit on the sidelines while my guys work their asses off.”   
  
She pursed her lips, wiping the rest of it away and uncorked the potion, pouring it over it. He exhaled. They both knew he pushed himself too hard. Draco had sent her an owl, telling her to take a look at his shoulder that night.   
  
“Draco said you had ice on your shoulder today,” she said, and Al gave a groan. “I want to look at it.”   
  
“It’s nothing, just keeping the swelling down, _it’s nothing._ The team mediwitch cleared me.”   
  
“Al, you and I both know that you get carried away. I’m just worried that you tend to… you tend to push yourself before your body is ready, which is why you’re having these problems with your shoulder in the first place. Remember the Muggle pain pills?” Albus looked over at her. “Rhys told me, asked for my advice on it. Just please be careful.”   
  
“I’m fine,” he told her as she put a lighter paste on and covered it again.     
  
“I hope so.”


	19. Unsteady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Funeral & Lunch

**36 - Unsteady  
** _February 23rd, 2033_  
_Noon_  
  
It was cold and gray outside, and a February wind whipped through the small crowd of people gathered around a casket and headstone. The Nott family had it’s own small graveyard on the back of the property, with graves dating back as far as the 15th Century.  
  
Theo, Nora, and Pansy sat in the front row, with Rose, Albus, Draco, and Scorpius sitting directly behind them. Al was sitting with his leg crossed over one knee, and his hands clasped together on his lap. The black suit he was in was partially hidden under his coat, and he wore aviator sunglasses despite the clouds. The cuts and bruises on his face had started to heal, and he was no longer in a sling.  
  
He glanced over at Scorpius, his face was red and he was trying not to cry; Rose was holding his hand. His own face was pensive, to the point of being cold and detached, he was hiding behind those sunglasses. Albus didn’t cry, and he hadn’t cried since he was little. The closest he had gone was if his eyes had watered while getting an injury. He kept his jaw squared and his eyes ahead as they lowered the casket into the ground.  
  
That would be the last time they saw him. Nora gave a small sob, and he uncrossed his legs and sat forward. He put his hand on her arm and gave it a small squeeze. She reached back with her hand and he took it in his own.  
  
Nora dropped Al’s hand and stood with her parents. They each took a flower from the bouquet and tossed it onto of the casket. They stood off to the side and each member of the crowd came to say their goodbyes and offer the family their condolences. Most would meet them at the repass after the funeral up at the Nott house.  
  
They waited for the rest of the crowd to dissipate. Al stood and buttoned his suit jacket. The Malfoy’s (Rose and Scorpius weren’t married yet, but if Draco had anything to say about it, she was just as much as his daughter as Al and Scorpius were his sons) joined him. They went before him, tossing their own flowers in. Al stepped up, taking his own flower and tossed it in. He stood at the edge for a moment, thinking. He and Rhys had always had their differences, and had even gone half a year at school without talking to each other. At the end of the day, they were still best friends. Nora had come to stand besides him. He could feel her shivering besides him, he took his own coat off and draped it around her shoulders. She leaned into him gently, and he wrapped his arm around her.  
  
The small group turned around and headed back up the path towards the manor. Draco and Theo were in the back, discussing something in hushed tones. Draco put his hand on Theo’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Pansy was walking next to Albus and Nora, silent, and Rose and Scorpius were ahead of them.  
  
Al stopped, something had caught his attention off in the hedges lining the drive of the Manor. “Al?” Nora asked, and he held up a hand.  
  
“Hold on,” he told them. Draco and Scorpius exchanged looks as Al started walking towards the hedges. The person that had been hiding in them finally popped up. He took off in a run, the camera bouncing on his chest. Al sprinted towards him.  
  
“Albus!” Nora called after him, knowing it would not end well for the photographer. “For Merlin’s sake,” she sighed, shaking her head and looking back at Scorpius who shrugged.  
  
Al cut the photographer off, and punched him in the jaw. The photographer stumbled and Al grabbed his shirt, shoving him up against a wall. “Rita?” He asked, and the photographer nodded. “This is a funeral, someone died. Have some fucking respect.”  
  
Albus pulled the camera from the guy’s neck, ripped out the film, crumpled it, and threw it on the ground. “Get out of here, before I do something I regret,” he kicked it as he turned away, walking back towards the manor.  
  
“Rita Skeeter,” he told the group, walking up the steps. Nora frowned, looking back at the photographer repairing his camera.  It was her brother’s funeral, of all places to try and score a quick galleon, to get gossip. Tears welled in her eyes again, she stopped in the foyer, tugging on Al’s hand. He turned, taking off his sunglasses and putting them into his pocket, his brow furrowing.  
  
“Rhys is gone,” she said. “And he’s never coming back, my big brother isn’t coming back,” it was like she was finally processed it. Al pulled her into his arms, his hand finding the back of her head. She sobbed into his shoulder.  
  
Albus almost opened his mouth to say ‘I know,’ but instead didn’t. He knew it wouldn’t comfort her, nothing he could say would comfort her. Instead, he chose to hold her.  
  
She eventually broke away, and he put a hand on her cheek, wiping her cheek with his thumb. “I feel silly,” she said.  
  
“Don’t,” he told her. “Go get some water, wash your face. I’ll be in the drawing room.” She nodded, and left to go upstairs. Al sighed, pushing his hair off of his forehead and headed into the drawing room with the others. He looked around the room, most had plates of food, some just cups of wine. Scorpius and Rose were talking with old school friends in the corner. Draco was sticking close by to Theo, and Pansy had appeared in front of him.  
  
“I heard you killed the woman that killed my son,” she said, looking up at him. He looked back down at her; her face was tear stained. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Al nodded to her, taking out a packet of nicotine gum he had in his pocket. He shook one out into his palm and popped it into his mouth. He put the gum into his pocket.  
  
“And now you’re dating my daughter, again.”  
  
From the stories Draco had told him of Pansy, she had never particularly been a pleasant woman. She tried to sell his father out to the Dark Lord. Draco always mused he never knew why Theo married her, perhaps there was more to Pansy Parkinson than any of them thought. Albus knew Nora took more after her father than her mother.  
  
“When I heard what you did the last time, I had half a mind to send you a howler. Theodore talked me out of it.”  
  
“I regret what I did.”  
  
“And Nora forgave you, but I do not forgive easily, Mr. Potter,” she said. “Speaking of, why she chose a Potter when she had a perfectly good Finch, I’ll never understand. Just know, if you…”  
  
“Hurt her again, you’ll hex my face off?” Al asked, raising an eyebrow. He was irritable, and not just because he quit smoking.  
  
Pansy's eyes narrowed. "The only reason I'm not now is because Draco and Theo vouched..."  
  
Al cut her off again. "Mrs. Nott," he started. "I've heard this same threat a dozen times, from a dozen different mothers. That was eleven, almost twelve years ago. People change in that time," he popped his gum. "Now, I know the reputation I've got, no doubt what you've heard. But I can assure you, I've got nothing but good intentions with Nora." He had said that line so many times, with so many different people, that he knew it was a cliche. The only difference was this time he meant it.

* * *

**37 - Middle Fingers  
** _February 28th, 2033  
11:30 AM _

The English National Quidditch team’s new stadium was state of the art. It was set deep into the English coastline, burrowing deep into the ground. A large white canopy partially covered the stadium, blocking the pitch from the elements. Restaurants and shops lined the insides of the stadium. It was expensive, and the country was extremely proud of it.

The team stood on the grass, it was closing in on noon. They had been on the pitch since 5 AM, and were starting to slow. Even Al was starting to drag, and his shoulder wasn’t feeling the best. Al had insisted on practicing on the new pitch instead of their usual training facilities. Albus wanted the team to get used to the new stadium.

They were discussing what to work on tomorrow, each critiquing each other. They even critiqued Al, calling him out on the fact that his form had gotten lazy. He claimed it was because of his arm, which would be healed by the time the season started.

“McLaggen, you definitely need to work on your keeping abilities. We signed you because you could block a goal, if Allen is down and out for the count, we need to count on you,” he said, adjusting his broom on his shoulder. McLaggen glared at him. “Let’s break a few minutes early today, and I’ll see you all tomorrow at six. Good job today, guys.” They broke, heading back towards the locker rooms.  

Albus turned around, his second-in-command following behind him. His other chaser, Adams, shook his head, and mouthed ‘don’t do it.’ McLaggen did it anyways.

"Asshole," McLaggen muttered. Albus stopped; he put his broom on his other shoulder, and nodded.

"What the fuck did you just call me?"

The rest of the team was silent. They knew better. They also knew Al was a hardass - but he was a hardass for a reason, which was making sure they were the best team in the world. They succeeded at that title for two years in a row, and they had nothing but respect for Al. He was a good Captain, he knew when he needed to pull back, he knew when they needed a push. He also knew that their team dynamic was important. They were like family, and he made sure he kept that strong. They had inside jokes, and stories. They joked on the pitch and at practice.

He just didn't tolerate disrespect, especially from an alternate.

"What did you call me, McLaggen?" Al repeated. He was shorter than McLaggen, though his presence made the 19 year old want to shy away. When he and the new alternate had their first day of practice, the team had given them the run down in the locker room while Al was meeting with the General Manager. They had warned him he was intimidating, if you disagreed with something stick your ground, but don't be disrespectful about it. Al was stubborn, but he could be swayed. Also, you're an alternate, don't get too big of a head.

Apparently he got a big head.

McLaggen stood there, silent, too much of a wimp to actually say it to Al’s face.

“May I remind you, we signed you because you were actually good. I had a hundred different choices. You’re also an alternate, which means it’ll be a good day for you when and if you get to fly with the rest of us on this pitch,” he pointed to the ground. “Show a little respect.”

“Then don’t talk to me like that, you give respect, you get respect.” McLaggen snapped, his arms crossed.

“You think you’ve been disrespected?” Al said, stepping closer to him. “It’s what we do as a team, we call each other out on our shit. They did it to me today. I threw like shit today, I got called out. You flew like shit today. You got called out,” he pointed towards the locker rooms. “Get the fuck off of my pitch and don’t come back until your head has deflated. I don’t have room on my team for alternates with egos.”

* * *

Al came around the corner from the locker room, freshly showered and still a little annoyed he had to kick an alternate off the team. He had another bag of ice taped to his shoulder, and was wearing slacks and a button down.  

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked, heading up the stairs, where he could see his mother waiting. He was going to give her a tour of the new facilities for work, and then they would head off for some lunch. She may have been the Sports Editor, but that didn't mean she still didn't get special perks.

He crested the stairs, and turned the corner. "Hey Mum," he said with a grin. She looked up from her notepad and immediately wrapped her arms around his torso. She didn't care if she got shrugged off or he didn't return the hug, she knew he hated hugs. To her surprise, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back.

"You ready?" He asked, letting her go and nodding back down the stairs towards the locker rooms. The other players had already left for the day.

"Of course," she eyed his shoulder as they walked down the stairs and down the hall. Pictures were hung on the wall, team portraits dating as far back as the 1800s. She stopped, looking at the newest one. She had seen it released to press, of course. Albus was standing in front next to the General Manager, with the rest of the team behind him.

"It seems like just yesterday you were signed with Puddlemere United," she said, looking over her shoulder at her son. She was incredibly proud. Most went into the Reserve - like Oliver Wood. To be signed to the actual team that young was nearly unheard of.

"Almost ten years," Al replied and held open the door to the locker room. She entered, looking around with her mouth open. Cubbies lined the walls, each had their names on plaques above whichever cubby was theirs. Their robes were hung up, and pads had been stored away, most likely under the small bench that occupied each cubby. The floor was black carpet, with the emblem of the three dragons with one holding a quaffle, and the other two holding a bludger inlayed with other colors.

"I was going to write about your practice today," she said. "Then I saw you kick an alternate off the team after yelling at him," she looked over at him with an eyebrow raised.

"He called me an asshole," Al shrugged. "He didn’t even have the decency to do it to my face. He has no balls.”

"You _are_ a hardass," she commented, knowing Al's reputation very well.

“I told him he better get used to us calling him out on his shit. He didn’t like it. I told him to get off my pitch.”

She nodded, taking in their locker room. It was much nicer than anything she had at the Harpies.

“Come on, I’ll show you the rest,” Al said, jerking his head towards the door.

* * *

They sat at a Muggle restaurant, and she was slightly uncomfortable. Al had insisted on coming here, however. Business professionals in suits and dresses occupied the restaurant, and she supposed that was why he told her to wear a dress, and he wore what he wore.

Growing up, her parents would have never been able to afford a place like this, let alone even go out to eat. She was trying to scour the menu for the least expensive thing.

“Get what you want, Mum,” Al said not looking up from his own menu.

“Al…” She started, about to go on about how she wouldn’t let him pay, be he finally looked up at her.

“No, I’m paying, Mum,” he cut her off bluntly. “Let me pay today. Get whatever you want.

She knew he could foot the bill, he had more than enough if the leaked contracts were true. They rarely discussed Quidditch business around each other, he was cautious. She was the Sports editor after all. Even though she had told him many, many times that she wouldn’t publish anything without his consent.

When there were rumors swirling about that he would be leaving Puddlemere to accept a position on the English National team, she would ask - as a mother - and he would just say they were rumors. Until the the press release came and suddenly she felt very hurt when it seemed like everyone else in the family knew except her.

“You know, I’m still so proud of you, for what you’ve done. That  bravery, I don’t know how you didn’t end up in Gryffindor,” she grinned at him.

“Ah, well. I think my ambition and cleverness out shown my bravery and chivalry,” he winked.  

“Ah, right there’s not an ounce of chivalry in you.”

They placed their orders, and Al took a drink of his wine and Ginny swirled hers in her glass. “Are you nervous?” She asked.

“For what?”

“The trial.”

_The trial._ Al took in a deep breath, after he had punched Rita’s camera man, and broke his camera, she had written a very long and nasty piece on why a Hellhound shouldn’t be allowed to roam around in public. She stated he should be brought to trial - no matter what he did to protect the Wizarding Community. The housewives that read Rita’s crap had rallied, sending in letters. The Ministry couldn’t avoid not bringing him to trial.

Hermione was the only reason why he wasn’t sitting in Azkaban waiting. She had allowed him to continue to walk, go to Quidditch practice - she wanted England to win after all.

“Are you asking me as my mother or as the sports editor for the Daily Prophet?” He asked, his eyes suddenly very intense.

“Your mother,” she said, her brow furrowed with worry.

“Scared shitless,” he replied. “I’m scared shitless, because I’m guilty of every one of the counts they’re bringing forward. Use of Unforgivables, crimes against Muggles, assault on Ministry Officials, robbery, murder, false imprisonment… do I have to go on?”

Ginny suddenly wasn’t very hungry. “Don’t tell me you’re going to plead guilty,” she said. “That would be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

“What other choice do I have? Everyone saw me at the Ministry. They saw me with that armor on. They know I’ve done those things. The only reason why Scorpius isn’t in the same boat is because he did less, he doesn’t rock the boat, and I made Aunt Hermione promise that we would be pardoned.”

“If she promised…”

“She maybe Minister, but that doesn’t mean she has to keep it if it means the general public wants to see me in Azkaban for the rest of my life.”

“They don’t,” Ginny said quickly. “Just those obnoxious house wives like your Grandmother who believes everything Rita Skeeter writes. Your father said that they’ve been letters asking you to be pardoned, most likely from your Quidditch fans.”

That made Al give a weak smile.

“Besides, if she doesn’t, I’ll make sure she swallows a toilet.”

Albus laughed and Ginny reached forward, taking his hand lightly. “You’ll be fine, Al. Just do what you’ve always done. Give them the middle finger, and pay them no attention.”


	20. Sympathy for the Devil

**38 - Sympathy For The Devil**

_March 6th, 2033_

The trial had been set the morning of March the 1st, and it was finally here. He took one last look at himself in his mirror, unsure if he was actually going to be able to come home. He was dressed in a black suit and tie, and his long hair was pulled back. Ophelia laid on his bed, she had grown bigger in the last few days. She stared up at him with red eyes.

"Wish me luck," he told her, putting his hand on her head and she rolled over onto her back. He had given Nora instructions just in case he didn't come back. She gave a soft whine and he went into the living room, picking up his wand and tucking it into one of his pockets. He picked up the letter summoning him to trial again. Come by floo, it had said, as well as a warning that he would hand over his wand at arrival.

* * *

 

Albus stepped out of the green flames and was met by six Aurors, including Teddy (he was sporting sandy blonde hair today), who nodded and gave him a sympathetic look. "Hey, Al. We gotta take your wand and restraint you. I'm sorry," he said.

Albus nodded, "I know," he took his wand from his pocket and handed it over to an Auror next to him. Another one produced his wand, muttering a charm, and golden ropes wrapped themselves around his hands and wrists, binding them.

"What's your wand?" The Auror who took it asked.

"Cherry, dragon heartstring core, 12 inches," he replied as Teddy put a coat over his hands to protect the rest from seeing he was bound. Though, that didn't stop The Prophet photographers from taking as many pictures as they could. Harry Potter's son, Captain of the English National Quidditch team, was a Hellhound, and being put to trial. He kept his head down as they walked.

"This way," Teddy said and the group of men began to walk towards the elevators. He pressed the down button, and the lift slid upwards. The group of them stepped in - and it was quite crowded, but they were finally away from the crowd.

"I'm rooting for you, Al," Teddy said, glancing over at who he considered his brother. Albus had turned pale, and he could feel his stomach rising to his throat. He just nodded, not really wanting to speak.

He just wanted to get this over with. Just when he thought he was out of the woods…

The cool voice of the elevator announced they were at the Department of Mysteries. The group stepped out and went down the hall, and down a flight of stairs. "Courtroom Ten," Teddy announced as he opened the door.

The dungeon was cold, torches dimly lit the room, casting shadows high on the walls. A chair sat in the middle, chains hanging down the sides. They walked him in, Teddy took the jacket that was covering his hands, and they sat him down on the chair. The chains clinked eagerly. Above him, the Wizengamot sat in their maroon robes. Ministry officials wore black and stared down at him.

His father was sitting to the right of the Chief Warlock, with the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister to her left. A court scribe was sitting in a corner, and a kid no more than 16 sitting next to him. Albus could have only assumed he was the British Youth Representative. He looked around, trying to find his Aunt, wasn't she normally at these things?

The Chief Warlock looked down her nose at the youngest Potter son. "Disciplinary hearing of the sixth of March," she began, her voice deeper than he would have expected. "Into offenses committed by Albus Severus Potter, a resident at Argyll Mansions, Hammersmith Road, London England."

She took in a breath. "Interrogators: Penelope Doreen Hawkworth, Chief Warlock. Harry James Potter, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Susan Bones, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. Hermione Jean Granger-Weasley, Minister of Magic and Witness for the Defense."

Al whipped his head around so fast he got a crick in his neck. Hermione was standing behind him now, and someone had given her a chair. "Excuse my tardiness," she said.

Hawkworth adjusted the parchment on her podium.

"The charges of the accused are as follows he did knowingly and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions: usage of the Unforgivable Curses, crimes against Muggles, assault on Ministry Officials, robbery, murder, false imprisonment, breaking the International Statute of Secrecy, possession of restricted magical creatures, and conspiring to overthrow the Ministry. Do you deny these charges?"

"No," Al said looking up at the Chief Warlock. The others in the room had begun to whisper.

"Would you care to defend yourself? Why the son of Harry Potter had sided with the biggest threat to humankind since Voldemort, and then by multiple witness accounts turned against her?"

"I was a spy, for my father," he said simply, looking over at Harry - who looked like he was going to puke.

"Then do you feel remorse for your actions?"

"No," Al made eye contact with her. "I do not feel remorse," he said. The room broke out in whispers and Hawkworth banged her gavel to quiet them. "Because I did them to help people -"

She interrupted him, "I hardly think torturing individuals with the Cruciatus Curse and then killing them is helping."

"I had to do it to survive. Because how could I have passed my father information and climb in her ranks if I didn't do as I was asked?" He adjusted in his seat and the chains clinked threateningly. "Throw me in Azkaban, condemn me. But know that I did what I did  _for the greater good._ Sometimes that means sacrificing the few for the many. Taking her out was my ultimate goal, and I didn't care how I got there. I think I reached that goal."

" _The few for the many?!"_ She snapped, "do you realize how that makes you sound, Mister Potter? Regardless, you are still guilty. You admitted it yourself, these are very serious crimes.  _Treason_ is a very serious crime. Your use of excessive force - I've heard you don't even have a Patronus anymore. You must have gotten carried away… even Severus Snape kept his Patronus."

"If I may, Chief Warlock Hawkworth," Hermione said, standing. "If his admission of guilt is enough to put him behind bars, then I suppose I am an accessory to his crime. Everything he did, I knew about. He told me, in explicit detail, I might add, all about the Hounds. So if he is guilty, I must be as well."

Harry stood up, taking off his hat and walked down the steps to stand next to Albus. "And I agree," He said. "I knew everything. If you put him in Azkaban, then I hope you'll be more than happy to find me a cell right next to him."

The Wizengamot began to whisper and Hawkworth banged her gavel, turning a lovely shade of purple. She had been on the side of Rita - old school friends and all. "Prime Minister, Mister Potter, if I may… Are you suggesting we arrest you as well? That is simply preposterous! You didn't do anything… you didn't hold his wand while he  _murdered Muggles."_

"He was murdering Muggles on our orders, so we may as well have." Hermione spat. "I promised Albus when he passed information to us, information that helped us bring in every last active Hound, that he, Scorpius Malfoy, and Rhys Nott would be pardoned. All three of them were working with the Ministry, and, as proof, I've even brought along the contract drawn up between Albus Potter and myself, stating the conditions of the agreement. Signed and dated by us both and Mister Harry Potter, who witnessed the exchange. As you will see," Hermione said, pulling her wand and sending the papers she produced from her robes to the Chief Warlock, "Part of the exchange, page two, paragraph three: ' _Granger-Weasley and A. Potter are to be bound by an Unbreakable Vow to ensure fulfillment of the terms made on both ends.'_ "

Hawkworth looked over the pages. "Unbreakable Vow… And what were the terms on his end?" She asked.

"They are all fully detailed within, though, for the sake of the trial, I'll put it simply. He had two terms. Get out alive, and kill Morgan Fawley. As you can see, he held up his end of the deal."

Hawkworth had turned a deep plum color, reminding Albus of Dudley Dursley. He looked over at Hermione who looked incredibly determined.

"And who performed the Unbreakable Vow?"

"I did," Harry said, raising his hand.

"I still think this is incredibly biased, considering you're family. Which is why I'm putting it to a vote," she sat back with a smirk, hoping the others would be on her side.

"Those in favor of conviction?" She asked, and raised her hand. There were a few scattered around the courtroom - no more than twenty, and they lowered their hands once a count was given.

"Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?" The rest of the Wizengamot raised their hands - Harry included. "Cleared of all charges," she said banging her gavel. Those who had voted in favor of clearing his charges began to clap as he stood up and the magical ropes binding his hands fell away.

"Win us that Cup, Potter!" He heard someone yell.

"Happy birthday, Al. You'll be round for dinner Sunday?" Hermione called, with a smile.

Al shook his head, "Probably not," he told her. "I'm still not comfortable coming around The Burrow just yet."

She frowned but nodded, understanding

Harry hesitated before pulling his son into a hug, not caring if he got shrugged off or not. Al hesitated himself before hugging him back. "I'm so proud of you, Albus. Happy Birthday" He said, squeezing him before letting him go.

"Thanks, Dad."

* * *

 

**39 - My House**

_Later - March 6th, 2033_

Al opened the door to his flat, Ophelia skidding around the corner to greet him. She jumped up, putting her paws up on his stomach, pushing him back against the door. "Hey, whoa." He ran his hand over his head and gave her a scratch behind the ears. He pushed her off of him and headed into the kitchen, her following close on his heels. He set his keys down on the counter with the six pack of beer he bought.

He pulled out a bottle, and opened the drawer under him, taking out the bottle opener. He popped the cap, letting it fall to the counter. He set the bottle opener back on the counter and took a long drink. Ophelia sat in front of him, looking up with big eyes. "You can't have this," he told her. She huffed.

Al sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It had been a long day. Cameras and reporters had been in his face as he left the Ministry. He had been cleared of all charges, it had been taken to a vote and the Wizengamot stood on his side. He supposed he should have been happy, out celebrating. It was his birthday too, after all! But, for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel like it. He wanted to stay home, have a beer.

He looked down at Ophelia, who was busy scratching behind her ear. "Do you need to go potty?" She immediately got excited, play bowing and running to the door, unable to get her paws under her. She jumped up, putting her paws on the door. Al grabbed his jacket and the two of them went downstairs.

Al's apartments didn't allow pets. His apartments also were occupied by Muggles - Muggles couldn't see Grims. Hear them, maybe, but not see. It was a plus. He didn't even need to worry about a mysterious floating leash either. Grims, were apparently, extremely loyal to their masters. She was still a puppy and she stuck close to his side.

He leaned on the wall as she sniffed around in the grass. It would have been better to have a cigarette, instead of standing out in the middle of the street doing nothing. He missed smoking. She finished her business, and he headed back up the stairs. "C'mon," he called and she bounded back towards him - still growing into her ears and feet.

* * *

 

Al laid back on his couch, his eyes closed. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up above his elbows, and his tie was loose around his neck. He was working on his third beer, which he raised to his lips to take a drink of. Ophelia was chewing on a bone on the floor.

His thoughts were drifting, from Nora… to Scorpius and Lily's wedding - he still needed to get a tux for that. There was a knock on the door, and Ophelia jumped to her feet - barking. He jumped, pulled from his thoughts. "Oi! Ophelia!" He scolded, putting the bottle on the coffee table, and looked through the peephole. He certainly wasn't expecting anyone - though he should have, honestly. His family stood on the other side.

Rose and Scorpius were arguing about something, with Scorp holding a big brown bag. Nora was digging around in her purse - no doubt looking for her keys to try and open his door. She was having difficulty with the brown box balanced on her hand. Lily was holding three or so bottles of wine in a canvas tote. He unlocked the deadbolt, and pulled the chain, opening the door with a confused look.

"Happy Birthday, Al!" Lily grinned, pushing past him and going into the kitchen. Albus stepped aside as they all came in, and then closed the door as Scorpius came in. Rose kissed Al on the cheek, shaking her head.

"Scorpius and I brought Chinese, Lily brought wine, and Nora brought the cake," Rose informed him with a smile. He could hear Lily and Nora laughing in the kitchen. Ophelia had decided that the one holding the food bag would be her best friend that night and followed Scorpius as he dropped the bag on the table. He began to dig through the bag, taking out containers and stacking them.

"Thank you, guys," Al said, looking up as Nora came into the room with napkins and silverware as well as a glass of wine. She set them down and pulled Al into a kiss.

"No need to thank us, it's your birthday," she told him. "You can't just hole yourself away on your birthday, trial or not."

Nora was right, he needed to be with people. Nothing was worse than being alone on your birthday. Al enjoyed his alone time, but he loved being around people. Especially the people he loved.

"Lily said you liked Sesame Chicken?" Scorpius asked, pulling the ottoman up to the table to sit. "She also said the last time she saw you order Chinese was five years ago, and she couldn't remember."

"No, that's right," Al laughed, taking a seat on the couch with Nora in the middle and Lily on the other side. Rose took a spot on the floor, while Ophelia crawled up on the ottoman behind Scorpius, putting her chin on his shoulder.

"Can I help you?" Scorpius chuckled, turning his head to look at Ophelia. "You're raising a beggar, mate."

Ophelia licked her lips and scooted closer to him. Al looked up at her, "Ophelia, let him eat. I'm not doing anything. She's been like this since I brought her home," he defended himself. He knew Scorpius was right, however, he often gave in and gave her whatever he was eating.

Nora snorted into her wine, "that's a fat load," she said. "You always give in to those eyes."

"She's right, you know," Lily pointed out with a laugh.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence on how I'm raising my Grim. I honestly thought raising her to  _not_  be a blood thirsty killing machine was the right way to go, forgive me," Al rolled his eyes and picked at his chicken.

"This kinda feels like school, you know," Rose said. "All of us together again, it's kinda weird that we're adults, and not complaining about school though."

There was a silence, it was different - they weren't all there. They were missing Rhys. "I miss Rhys, though." Scorpius finally said. "Doesn't seem quite the same without him glaring at you for putting a hand on his sister, Al."

Al had a hand on Nora's back, she was staring down at her chicken fried rice. "He would have been proud of us, though." She finally said. "Something tells me that he would have been okay with him too," she looked back at Al with a smile.

"Anyway," Lily said waving her hand, as though to clear the topic. This was her brother's birthday, after all. She would be damned if she didn't try to make it at least a little better. "This room is like a setup for a bad joke. A lawyer, a Healer, a Quidditch player, an editor and an Obliviator walk into a pub."

Ophelia has since jumped off of the ottoman and had put her head on Scorpius' knee. He put a hand on her head as she looked up at him. "No," he told her.

"Oh give the poor thing some food," Rose finally said and Scorpius relented, giving her a piece of his chicken.

"A piece of chicken won't kill her," Al said, chewing his own food. "Honestly, I'm pretty sure she'd eat garbage if given the chance."

Lily just shook her head, taking a drink of her wine.

"Make sure she gets home safe, please?" Albus asked Scorpius, who nodded as he shuffled a very drunk Lily out the door.

"I will, mate. Happy Birthday."

"Happy Birthday, Al," Rose said, giggling just as much as Lily.

Al closed the door behind him as Scorpius herded the two drunk girls in front of him. No doubt they'd take Lily back to their place and let her crash on the couch. He locked the deadbolt and replaced the chain, and turned back around. Ophelia was busy with her nose stuck in a take out container, determined to get every little thing out. Nora had a trash bag and was picking up the rest of the food. Al grabbed the leftover silverware and glasses and headed towards the kitchen with them.

"I'm really glad you didn't have to go to prison, that would have sucked. I don't think they allow conjugal visits at Azkaban," Nora said with a smirk.

"Yeah, I don't think so either," Al said, turning on the sink to wash off the silverware. Nora opened the dishwasher for him and he began to load it. "So, I have a question."

"What's that?" She asked, turning to look at him.

"Your lease is up soon, and I was wondering if you'd move in with me."

Nora grinned over at him. "I'd love that," she said and kissed him when he stood up straight and closed the dishwasher. She pushed him back against the cupboards, her hands going to his chest and she kissed him. "But, now it's time for your birthday present."

"Oh, and I am down for that," he grinned against her lips.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys, sorry it's been a hot minute since I updated, life has been stressful recently and I actually had to have my Beta post this chapter for me since I'm away from my Mac for a week.


	21. 21 - Mess is Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End

**40 - Mess is Mine** **  
** _ March 23rd, 2033 - 7PM _

Dinner at the Nott manor had been pleasant - and extremely good. Lamb with a cherry glaze and potatoes. Al couldn’t remember, either way he was stuffed. Even Pansy had been decently nice that night, but Al just chalked that up to the fact that she knew what was coming. Theo knew too, Al was proposing. He, understandably wanted Nora as in the dark as possible, and Theo and Pansy had offered to help him out with the details when he had mentioned the bonfire. He wanted to ask her to marry him at the same place he first asked her out twelve years ago.

They had just finished their post-dinner tea and cake in the sitting room, “it’s a nice evening,” Theo said with a smile, and set his cup down on the saucer. “You two should go out and take a walk through the garden,” he suggested. Pansy nodded with a small smirk, and sat straighter in her chair. 

“What do you think, Nor?” Al asked, standing up and holding out his hand to help her up. “Wander around for old time’s sake?”

“I think you three are trying very hard to get me to go down to the garden,” she grinned. “I might as well just play along.” She took Al’s hand and he pulled her out of the deep chair. 

He looked down at her, trying to hide the surprise on his face. Her father was not being the most subtle in the world. “I dunno what you’re talking about - I just wanna go walk off this dinner.”

Theo shrugged at his daughter and turned to look at the empty fireplace. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, taking another sip of his tea. 

The two of them made their way down towards the back of the well-cared for property, where they used to hold their annual bonfires when they were still in school. Though it hadn’t been used in several years, the remnants from the last one were still scattered around the ground that was still wet from the spring shower that had passed through earlier in the evening. 

He pulled his wand, drying off a spot on the long they had occupied when they were teenagers. He sat down, and she sat down next to him. She rested her shoulder as they looked over the grounds. 

“Can you believe it’s been twelve years since I first asked you out?” He asked, looking down at her. 

“Has it really been that long?” Nora asked, raising an eyebrow. “Shit, we’re old.” She laughed, and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head and wrapped her arm around her. 

“Please, you’re at least two years younger than I am, I’m almost thirty.” He gave a small shutter. “Your twenty-six is not that old. You’ve still got a bit.” 

“Something tells me you did not bring me down here to reminisce on our ages,” She smirked, looking up at him. “At least not completely, what’s up?” She snuggled closer to him as a breeze picked up. 

Al sighed, sitting forward and bracing his forearms on his knees. He needed to tell her, it was just finding the words. He looked back at her. “Nora, I… I have something to tell you,” he furrowed his brow. “And you’ll probably be pretty pissed, but I promise it’ll be worth it in the end.”

He took in a deep breath and looked forward again, “our sixth year, you and I both remember it pretty well when you walked in on Katie Cross and I.”

“Yeah,” Nora said, eyes narrowing. She crossed her arms over her chest, not pleased she was having this conversation again. “What of it?”

“I was trying to get her off me, Nora. I never cheated on you - I didn’t cheat on you,” he said and sat up straighter. He looked over at her. “I guess she was trying to thank me for protecting her during our accident. I guess instead of cookies she tried to give me a blow job.” 

Nora looked him over for a moment, and then turning fully towards him. “You- what do you mean you didn’t cheat on me, Albus?” She asked, her voice deathly calm.

“I didn’t do anything with her, Nor.” He muttered. 

“And you let me believe that you did?”

“Would you have believed me? You were screaming at me, you wouldn’t listen to anything I said.” 

Nora slapped him, hard. She looked him over with indignation in her eyes as Al’s hand went to his cheek. That hurt, that hurt a lot. “I deserved that, I absolutely did.” He groaned. 

“Yeah, you did,” she said, her arms still crossed. “You maybe a complete asshole, but at least you’re not a cheater,” she hesitated before pulling him into a hug.

Al hugged her back, a little surprised. He let out a low chuckle. “But I’m your asshole,” he pulled back to look at her. “And to be fair I’ve never cheated on you. Others… that’s neither here nor there. Nora, I love you. I’ve loved you since I first kissed you, I knew that. I knew at that damn bonfire twelve years ago that I would marry you.”

“What are you saying, Al?” Nora frowned. “You knew you wanted to marry me? Back then when we were still in school and you were only sixteen?” She picked up one of his hands and flipped it over. Her fingers went over the big callous on his palm, she was avoiding his eye. “I loved you so much back then. I still do.” 

“Mum always said when you know, you know. And… I knew. Like when I didn’t do anything to try and get you back… I fucked up royally,” he sighed.

“Yeah, you did.” She nodded, reenforcing what he had said. 

Al sat up straighter and pulled out a light blue box from his jacket pocket. “Nora, I’m gonna fuck up a few more times, and I’m gonna be an asshole. It’s just what I do. But you bring out the best person in me. You’re my light, and I can’t lose you. Nora, will you marry me?” 

“I-Al…” Her hand went to her mouth. “Yes,” she breathed, looking at the open box in front of her.

Al pulled her to him and kissed her hard, he pulled the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. “I love you,” he muttered, kissing her again and rested his forehead against hers. 

“I love you, too.” She grinned, and pulled away to examine the ring. He smile turned into a smirk and she looked back up at him. “Mum and dad knew, didn’t they? That’s why they were up to when they were trying to get you down here.”

“Yeah, they’re not exactly the most subtle people in the world,” Al rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised your mum was able to keep her mouth closed.”

Nora snorted. “She’s a vault when she wants to be,” she messed with the ring a little bit. 

“Does it fit okay? We can go get it resized when I get back into the country in a few days,” Al frowned. 

She twisted the ring a bit more, testing the fit. “It’s a little loose, but it’ll be fine until we can get it resized. Remind me where you’re going again?” She asked. 

“South Africa,” he kissed her temple and pulled her closer to him again. “They’ve been playing well again this year.” 

“Gonna beat their asses?” She looked up at him, “I mean you gotta keep your momentum going.” 

“Would I have it any other way?” Al asked, grinning down at her.  

She cuddle up next to him, cheek pressed to his chest. “You know, I’m always so surprised when you touched me - or you let me touch you.” She told him.

Al laughed, pulling away to look down at her. “And why is that?” He asked.

“It’s no secret you’re not a touchy-feely person, Al. I’ve seen you shrug off a hand from your father. Hell, I’ve even seen you brush off a time or two. But, you don’t with me - you’ve never brushed me off. It’s always just been a bit of a surprise,” she told him.

“I don’t like people touching me because it makes me uncomfortable,” he said, honestly. “I don’t like it. I’ve never.. really liked it. Since I was a kid - but you… you make me feel comfortable.”

Nora looked up at him, a smile crossing her features. She made him comfortable, hearing that was one of the best things in the world. “I’m glad.”

* * *

 

**Epilogue  
** _ September 6th, 2038 _

The first years muttered amongst themselves as they filed into the classroom and took their seats. It was their first day in Defense Against the Dark Arts - school had started on a Wednesday this year, and their schedules had them here Monday mornings. 

Their heads whipped around, trying to take in everything in the room. A large dragon skeleton hung from the ceiling, while the windows to the left of them held low bookshelves with various items from around the world, as well as skulls and what looked like dark artifacts. A large dog bed sat under the stairs leading up to the office. A black, fuzzy mass was curled up on it. 

Many of them had their eyes land on the two mannequins standing at the end of the bookshelves, behind the chalkboard. The first one had an leather chest piece with long black robes. The hood was up, and an ornately carved silver mask glared down at the students. The second had a leather chest piece and cloak. A wolf was embroidered on the leather. On it’s head was a black wolf mask, teeth bared. Two gold bars came out from the right eye. 

Some adjusted and took out their notebooks and required textbook. The clock chimed, signaling the start of their class. Most of the students had a crash course on professors before they started from siblings, others had found out over the weekend. They learned that he could either be their best friend or their worst enemy. The Slytherins in the class had briefly met him once when he popped in to introduce himself as their Head of House and to let them know if they needed anything - his office door was open. Regardless, most of them were still understandably nervous. 

The door to the office opened and they all sat up a little straighter. The lump on the dog bed sat up, stretching with a yawn. She was easily the size of a small bear, and she gave a very dirty look towards Albus - who was coming down the stairs. 

He was dressed more casually than any of their other professors had been - and even more so than when they had seen him feast night. Al dropped his books on the podium, along with his wand. He began to pass out stapled packets of paper to each row. 

“Pass ‘em back, thanks, how was potions this morning? Down in that dungeon first thing is always rough,” he was met with nods and small grunts of acknowledgement. 

“This is our class schedule for our year,” Al told them, returning to the podium with his own copy. “Tentative, depending on what goes on during the year. We may adjust depending on time,” he picked up the piece of chalk from the podium. 

“Most of you know who I am, for those who don’t - I’m Albus Potter.” He wrote his name on the chalkboard. “Yes, I played Quidditch for the English National Team. Yes, I was their Captain,” he found it was just easier to address it on the first day for first years instead of ignoring it. It would save a lot of trouble and a lot of questions later.

Al leaned forward on the podium, his forearms resting on the front edges. He messed with his wedding ring. “Yes, my dad is Harry Potter,” he took in a breath. “And yes, I was a Hellhound,” he made a motion towards the armor behind him. “That was my armor, actually. The Ministry  _ does  _ have me on their Dark wizard watch list, and would classify me as such.”

The kids adjusted nervously. “Don’t worry,” Al chuckled. “It just means that I’m more qualified than most to teach this. I was actually a spy for the Ministry during that time, so no, I didn't believe what she believed in,” 

He pointed to Ophelia. “That is Ophelia. She is a Grim, please don't listen to Professor Trelawney. She is not a sign of death. She won't kill you, and you won't die if you look at her. The most she'll do is ask you for some crisps if you have any. And by ask, I more or less mean beg.” 

Al checked his watch, and grabbed his textbook - which had pages flagged here and there with different colored tabs. The kids stared at him, more questions than answers at this point. “This book will be your bible in my class for the next seven years - we’ll have other books, of course. But you’ll live and breathe this book.” He sat up on top of an empty desk, opening to one of the flagged pages.

“Let’s turn to page 120 and get started, shall we?” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally finished! Thank you all so much for sticking around. Al's story isn't finished, so don't worry. Can you say prequel and sequel? ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor any of the song titles.


End file.
